#Inheritance Games fanfic

[cherrys-writings]

Storytime

Nash x Libby

I have so may wips, but I couldn't resist the urge

Nash had said "The Love Hypothesis" was a good book. He even told her some fun trivia about it, that it was originally a Reylo fanfic set in a grad school AU. Libby was secretly a Reylo shipper and liked the idea of a STEM romance. Nash did not prepare her for the scene towards the end. Libby should not have been sitting in one of the many libraries reading it. Heat crept up her neck as she read the scene. 

“Have you finished the book yet?” A familiar voice called from the door way.

Libby snapped the book shut, “not quite.”

She stood and tried to leave, keeping her head lowered to hide her pink cheeks, but Nash was blocking her path. He slouched a bit trying to get to eye level with her, crooked grin on his face. 

“Where ya goin’ sweetheart?” 

“I just remembered…I have to…um there’s cookies in the oven,” Libby stammered. 

“I didn’t smell any cookies on my way here,” Nash drawled.

“I meant I had to put cookies in the oven,” her eyes darted around the room.

“Where are you at in that book I gave you?”

Libby gasped and took a step back, “why does it matter?”

Nash chuckled, “I think I know what part you’re at. Do you want me to read it to you?” Her eyes widened, but she didn’t protest when he took the book from her hands and pulled her back to her spot in the library. He started the scene from the beginning, the filthy words made even dirtier by his Texas drawl. Nash didn’t rush through the scene, he savored each word and glanced at Libby periodically. He loved how the blush creeped up to her ears as he read. How her lips were parted slightly almost like a perpetual gasp. Nash had to stifle a groan when she wet her lips and not so subtly shifted in her seat. He knew she was picturing the two of them together and he couldn’t help but do the same, his cock painfully hard by the time he reached the end. 

Nash barely made eye contact with Libby before she pounced. 

@thescribblednovel thanks for putting the idea in my head

[morganwrites12672]

Nash Hawthorne x Reader

Summary: You're sick and Nash takes care of you.

Request from @pandunar

---------------------------------------------------------

You had had a horrible fever for the past two days. It has finally calmed down, but you still felt horrible. You always caught the worst colds.

Nash had been concerned. You had cancelled a date. And the reason has been.... suspicious. You had claimed your sister was going through a rough breakup. Which he thought was odd, especially considering the fact that your sister was happily married. He had been your date to their wedding.

Nash was worried enough to go straight to your apartment. You mumbled a curse as you heard a knock. And then Nash's voice, thick with his Texas accent.

"Sweetheart? Are you okay in there?"

You didn't know what you should do. You had a shitty cold, but didn't want to worry Nash or get him sick...

You sighed before getting up and opening the apartment door. Careful to keep your distance from Nash, you spoke.

"You should go home Nash. I have this horrible cold, and I don't want to get you sick."

Nash chuckled.

"You won't get me sick." He said as he stepped aside and walked into your apartment. You frowned. Getting him sick would just make him miserable.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to take care of you, you know why? 'Cause you need me right now." Nash said. His words erased every glimmer of doubt from your mind. You needed him.

Nash led you into your bedroom. And he made you get in bed before tucking you in. God, you really did have the best boyfriend ever.

Nash brought you soup, and set cough drops on your side table. He kissed your forehead before sitting down on the bed.

"Go on and rest darling. I'll be here as long as you need me."

[jahayla-parker]

IMPORTANT POLL

Hi all! I completed my urgent personal matter and can now return to writing more and getting works out sooner!

But, I wanted to see if there is any interest in me writing for the Hawthorne Brothers from The Inheritance Game Series? I’m thinking mostly Grayson and Jameson but would be open to any!

[inmyheaddd]

coffee sweetener — grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: the way i have like 6 other fics i'm working on, this was so cute though I had to write it asap!! thank u sm for the req! wc: 1.8k summary: one of your regulars at your café, grayson— who happens to be insanely handsome, comes in today like usual. but strangely enough, things go a tad further than the surface level small talk you usually have.

a familiar suit clad blonde walked in the near empty cafe you worked in. there was a soft hum of some chatter, but not much, as the early morning sun filtered through the large windows.

some people glanced up from their tables for a second, and some people glanced up at him for a lot more than a small second. could you blame them? no, not really. 

his eyes immediately found yours as he walked up to the cash register which you stood behind, and you found yourself averting your gaze involuntarily. 7:14 AM the time read. there was only one thing that made the early morning shift worth it, and it seemed to be standing right infront of you now. 

today his suit was gray, you noticed. it made his eyes stand out so much more, you nearly stumbled over your words. “you again,” you said, narrowing your eyes jokingly and biting back a smile.

he smiled the tiniest smile, shrugging as if to say ‘what can i say’ before pretending to look up at the menu to order.

“what would you recommend today?” he spoke smoothly, a stark contrast to some of the other people that would come in and simply shout at you.

“why does that matter?” you teased, tilting your head to the side before you looked down at the cash register for a moment and realised you’d already started putting in his usual order. “you get the same thing every time.” 

“'there seem to be no specials, but I'm in the mood for a change.'' he said, his grey eyes doing a once over on you. god, how you wish you weren’t wearing that horrible work apron right now. ''I can be a man full of surprises.”

you let out a small chuckle, “i find that hard to believe.”

everything about him screamed precise and orderly. that was partly what intrigued you so much when you first met him. the fact that he was incredibly gorgeous wasn’t so bad either. 

you expected him to get a black coffee, maybe a croissant if he was feeling extra adventurous that day, but no a large americano and a muffin. he would also get a blueberry scone or two some days, but always get it to go, and never eat it himself.

you almost wondered if he was ordering for someone else, maybe a girlfriend. but again, no. he sat alone with just his work laptop, having his americano and muffin. 

“is that so?” he countered, a slight raise of one of his brows and an amused smile playing on his lips. 

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t smiling yourself. “very much so.” 

you were thankful there weren’t any customers in line behind him that would yell at you for taking too long. but even if there was a rude customer, you doubted they yell.

grayson had one of those sort of intimidating presences that made you think he was born to be a ceo or something. now that he’d been a regular for a couple months, that intimidation mostly wore off on you. you just thought he was a pretty cute guy with an obsession for suits. 

“i suppose i’ll have to prove you wrong then,” he said that in a way that made you think he proves people wrong very often. he adjusted one of his suits lapels, inadvertently drawing your eyes to his arms. “so i ask again, what do you recommend?” 

tearing your eyes away from his arms and back to his face, you asked, “you’re really going with this? okay, fine.” you raised your eyebrows like he had challenged you, but you still couldn’t wipe that stupid smile off your face. 

you rested your hands on the counter, “uhm,” you thought, humming slightly, “well, i usually get a refresher— like the strawberry or dragon fruit ones, or i get a hot chocolate.” you said, then a thought sparked in your mind. “oh! and a chocolate chip cookie. and a cake pop.” 

you bit back a grin— you did not get cake pops or chocolate chip cookies regularly, but the image of grayson with a cake pop or cookie made you want to laugh for some reason. 

“alright then,” he said, ''may i get a medium strawberry refresher, and a,'' he paused, saying the words like they almost pained him, ''two... two chocolate chip cookies, please.''

── ⋆⋅���⋅⋆ ──

grayson left with his drink and cookie, sitting down at a table a bit further in the back, but he was still conveniently in your eyeline. he opened his briefcase, which you hadn't even realised he was holding. it seemed so natural for him to hold, you hadn't looked twice. you caught yourself looking at him frequently, and sometimes he would glance up from his laptop and lock eyes with you for a moment.

he came up to the counter a few minutes later, his drink finished and thrown away, and a cookie and a half left, adjusting his suit jacket with one hand, briefcase in the other. you fake sighed in annoyance as if his very presence was pestering you-- quite the contrary, really.

he only smiled in response.

''well?'' you said, wiping imaginary dust off of your apron, ''how was it? you sticking to the muffins?''

''I have to say, the refresher wasn't horrible. it was quite nice, actually.'' he said, and you gave him a teasing look that was like, 'told you so!' before he continued. ''however, the cookies were far too sweet. i’m sorry, you seem to have terrible culinary taste.''

you fake scoffed, painting the picture of being truly offended. ''okay, can i tell you a secret?'' you leaned forward, and he entertained you by doing the same, motioning for you to continue. ''yes, you're right. these cookies are absolutely horrible, i agree. but i make much better ones.''

amusement flashed across his eyes, like he guessed you had picked out the not-so-good snacks for him on purpose. “really?” he prompted, a dimple flashing in one of his cheeks as he smiled.

“yes,” you swore seriously with a smile that contrasted that no-nonsense tone, “really.” 

“i’d like to be the judge of that.” he said, his voice low and teasing and- god, you could listen to it forever.

“trust me, i’m not lying. i’ll bring some to work tomorrow, just remind me to actually bake them. i have such bad memory.” 

“and how exactly would i be able to remind you?” he tilted his head to one side slightly, a teasing glint in his eye like he could see where you were getting at, and was entertaining it. 

your heart was beating crazy fast, but it was time to finally make a move on this guy. the cash register flirting was simply not enough anymore. you hoped he felt whatever chemistry you were feeling too-- and that you weren't misreading things. then again, you almost failed the subject, so it wouldn't be surprising if you were still getting it wrong.

“why don’t i give you my number," you started, feeling your hands get clammy, ''and you could text me after my shift?” 

his dimples flashed a second time, his eyes doing another once over on you. okay, surely you couldn't misread that one.

you felt your cheeks get hot as he spoke once again, his voice so smooth and low that it fit perfectly with the serenity of the morning and café. “i think i’d like that very much, and that i'll be looking forward to tomorrow.” 

biting back a smile and ignoring the way your stomach erupted with seemingly a million butterflies , you somehow managed to say, “alright, then. i think i'd like it too.''

you wrote down your number on his receipt, ignoring the way your hands trembled with excitement and nervousness, drawing a little smiley face next to it.

holy shit, you were never like this. your heart raced as you watched his eyes find the bottom of the receipt and give you a tiny smile. you watched him sit down an his work laptop, then pull out his phone, type something in, and put it back in his suit's pocket.

ugh, you would break every rule and look at your phone right now, except you were on your last strike for using your phone in the middle of shifts, and you did not want to get fired from this little coffee shop for the sole reason of seeing that one blonde man every morning and having your usual banter. 

''wait,'' you called out, ''what are you going to do with the rest of the cookies? you said, ''don't tell me you'll throw those absolute delicacies away.'' you added jokingly, and grayson simply shook his head, looking down with a slight laugh with a single blonde strand of hair falling into his face.

''I'm keeping them for my younger brother,'' he replied, a fondness in his voice, ''he's quite something, with his extreme love for baked goods.''

you hummed in thought, suddenly realising this was the first time you'd heard about him having brothers. this was really the first conversation about anything that didn't involve small talk and café related things, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to continue learning more about him. getting to know eachother.

''I think those atrocious cookies will change that love he has,'' you mumbled under your breath without thinking as you shook your head.

you heard grayson chuckle, ''what was that?'' he teased.

''god, i'm gonna get myself fired. forget i said anything.'' you groaned as you covered your face with your hands, already feeling your cheeks heat up again.

''that would prove very difficult,'' he replied smoothly as you put your hands back down. ''I find it near impossible to forget anything you say to me.''

if you thought your cheeks were heated a few seconds ago, they were blazing now. you averted your gaze for a quick second, but his gaze didn't leave yours.

chuckling slightly, you managed to speak without stumbling. "should i start worrying about all my bad jokes being permanently filed away?"

"bad jokes?" he quipped, "i've yet to hear one from you.'' he did not let up on his charm for a single moment, a laugh escaping your lips before he resumed. ''but if you insist, i’ll let you know when you make your first."

'''I'll see you tomorrow, then?''

you nodded, muttering a small 'bye' as you watched grayson step out of the café, the sound of the door chiming behind him.

the anticipation was unbearable, and despite knowing you were on thin ice with your manager, your hand inched toward your phone on the counter.

a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed no one was watching. you unlocked your phone, heart racing as you checked your notifications.

there it was—a new text, well, one from about 10 minutes ago.

Unknown Number:

Already counting down to tomorrow. 🙃 Don’t forget those cookies you talk of, I'm holding you to it.

you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you quickly saved the number, your hands trembling slightly. you almost let out a snort as his emoji choice before typing, glancing again to make sure the coast was clear.

you

i definitely won’t be forgetting now that you've texted I just may be looking forward to tomorrow too 🫣

you were thankful the place was practically empty, because surely you looked like a crazy person, smiling to yourself. you set the phone back down, trying to suppress the giddy warmth spreading through you. the day suddenly didn’t feel quite so long anymore.

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm @goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington @peppapigsposts @thoughtdaughter3 

[wish-i-were-heather]

A FOOL FOR YOU PT 4⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 2642 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5)

STORY: well, y'know. you can't ignore a 911 text from a hawthorne

WARNINGS: none really, reader does struggle to swim tho and freaks out a little

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @ravishinglyliving @maybxlle - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

A/N: EEK I LOVED WRITING THIS. i didn't describe the reader's swimsuit because i don't know what everyone is comfortable with so i let you kinda imagine it however u want! i'm not sure how many more parts i can get out of this idea, there'll definitely be at least one more lmk what u think tho

He said please. 

Grayson didn’t lack manners. It’s not that he didn’t know how to say please and thank you. But he also wasn’t the kind of person to throw around a plea lightly. Grayson Hawthorne was, well, a Hawthorne. The name itself was a demand, not requiring a please. But he’d felt the need to say please to you. 

Maybe you were overthinking it. 

Or maybe you were still in denial, like Avery said you were. 

The texts came in at eight at night, too, which only raised more questions in your mind. If he wanted to talk to you, why hadn’t he just found you? Or simply texted you to meet somewhere? You didn’t understand why he’d felt the need to use the 911; you would’ve come if he’d just told you to go to the pool. 

Hawthornes did tend to have a flare for dramatics, you supposed. 

You had no idea why Grayson wanted you to meet him at the pool. He was a swimmer, sure, but that was very much his personal time. Grayson didn’t often appreciate people watching or joining him in the pool. But, you figured there was a chance he expected you to.

So you found yourself at her door again. Despite the faint conversation you could hear from inside, you knocked. 

Avery took longer than last time to open the door. “What’s up?” She asked. 

“Hey. Uh, do you have a swimsuit I could borrow?”

She frowned slightly, confused. “I mean I do, yeah, but why-”

You didn’t even have to say anything. You just showed her your phone screen with the text messages. Her eyes widened as she read them and she immediately opened the door wider for you. “Get the hell in here.”

Avery was already digging through the grand dresser. As you entered the room behind her, you noticed Jameson sitting on the floor in front of a deck of cards, giving you a curious look. “What-”

“Not now, Jamie,” Avery quickly answered. “Girl problem.”

That shut him up. 

“Don’t mind him,” she told you, turning back around with a few items in hand. “We were just playing solitaire.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Together? Isn’t that a one player game?”

“His idea, not mine. Managed to turn it into a competition too, somehow,” Avery shrugged. Jameson gasped dramatically but she continued before he could speak, bringing your attention back to why you asked for help. “So, I’ve actually never worn this one before, you could keep it if you want. Or-”

“That one’s fine,” you interrupted, taking it from her. “Can I change in your bathroom?” “Oh, uh, yeah, sure I guess,” Avery answered, clearly confused as to why you were so quick to answer. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get there as soon as I can. Thanks.”

You didn’t change completely, just putting it on and putting your clothes back on over it. You didn’t plan on getting into the water, but it was worth being prepared.

As you were stepping out of the room and thanking Avery, Jameson called, “Say hi to Gray for me.”

Your head snapped back. “What?”

“Come on,” he smirked. “He’s practically the only person who uses the pool, especially at this time. So tell him I said hi.”

Shaking your head, you just ignored him. Jameson was the type of person who could read people well, so odds are he probably already knew he was right. But you didn’t want to give even more of a reaction to him than you already had. 

Avery grabbed your arm though, before you left. “Hey, hey, good luck.”

You thanked her and left, just hoping Jameson wouldn’t try to watch from the window. 

~~

The cool night air hit you sharply as you stepped outside. It hadn’t been too chilly during the day, but you now found yourself wishing you were in more than just shorts and a thin hoodie.

Shivering, you made your way over to the pool. Your mind was racing the whole way there, but there wasn’t really anything else for you to be wondering. Grayson had asked for you to come to the pool, presumably either to swim with him or just because he was most comfortable there. Either way, it was pretty clear that he wanted to discuss what happened when he was drunk. But you still didn’t understand why he sent the 911. 

Good thing you were on your way to finding out. 

The pool deck was empty, save for a few lounge chairs. The fancy cushioned kind, the ones you would only find at a hotel. And the Hawthorne mansion, of course. 

On one of the chairs were two neatly folded towels- two. So he did expect you to get in the water with him? Where was he anyway? If he’d already brought out towels, why wasn’t he-

Splash.

You’d been too caught up in your thoughts and the sound of your heart racing in your chest to realize that Grayson was, in fact, already in the pool. Swimming laps because he was Grayson Hawthorne, so of course he was swimming laps when the sun had already set and the only light in the sky was that of the stars. 

Swimming had never really been your thing, so you didn’t know the exact stroke, but you would’ve been a liar if you said you weren't somewhat mesmerized. The way his arms went up and out, the way his fingers glided along the surface before entering the water once again. His legs kicked together, the movement fast and almost indiscernible under the blue of surrounding him. 

Grayson came up for air so quickly you couldn’t even make out his face, but your eyes caught on the way his hair flicked up with his head. It was certainly a skill, and he managed it so gracefully. You struggled to look away.

Thankfully, you were pulled out of your stare when he suddenly reached the wall nearest to you. Grayson’s hands touched the edge of the pool in perfect sync. You could see the red in his face, the tire he was giving himself from swimming. You wondered how long he’d been there before you found him.

Grayson met your eyes with a tired smile as he caught his breath. “You came.”

“You said 911,” you explained, sitting on the edge of the chair where he’d set the towels. “I figured it was pretty important.” 

“Yes, I did.” He nodded. “We do only get one of those a year, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to any of my brothers.”

“Got it.”

He was avoiding the elephant in the room. 

“Would you like to join me?”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”

Was he really just going to ignore the fact that he’d sent you such an urgent message? A 911 could’ve meant he was dying, for all you knew when you’d first received it. And what, it was because he wanted to go for a swim with you? There was more he wasn’t saying and you just wanted to yell at him to spit it out. 

Instead, you responded calmly. 

“Join you in the pool?”

Grayson looked you up and down and shook his head. “I suppose you can’t really, not without proper swimwear.”

You got in the pool in a suit when you were drunk, you didn’t say. 

“I have a bathing suit on under this,” you explained. “I just… why do I need to get in the water? Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath. 

“I’ve decided I owe you an apology. For what happened.” You knew immediately what he was referring to. “I was reckless and foolish and unintentionally put the burden of myself onto you. It would have been easier for you to just leave me be, but you dealt with my mess. I appreciate that.” 

The silence that followed was only interrupted by the gentle lapping of the pool.

“See why I figured you should get in?” He asked. “We’d be at an even level. Better suited for such a conversation.”

“Or you could just get out,” you offered. 

“Please?” 

That word again.

Grayson Hawthorne knew what he was doing. 

“Fine,” you groaned, but really only half annoyed. You turned around as you began to take off the layers above the swimsuit, watching him in the corner of your eye as he looked away respectfully.

The cold hit you even harder now that you had removed your hoodie, and you hoped that the pool was well heated. 

“Okay, okay.” You began walking over to the edge of the pool where Grayson was. When his eyes found you, he stared for a little longer than normal before answering.

“You’re nervous,” he observed. “Can you swim?”

You shrugged, taking another step closer. “I know how to stop myself from drowning.”

Grayson moved out of your way and you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet getting wet. It was heated, thankfully. Comfortably so. No wonder he loved to come here at night. 

He was watching you silently. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it was killing you. Not that anyone could ever tell what Grayson Hawthorne hid behind those piercing eyes, but yet another question amidst everything that had happened that week was too much.

Of course he’s a mystery, he’s a Hawthorne. 

Before you could overthink it even further, you got in.

The warmth of the water enveloped you, contrasting greatly with the chill of the night air. You were holding onto the wall, not planning on letting go because your swimming skills were just barely above that of a child starting swim lessons. But Grayson’s intense gaze kept your heart racing. 

He swam towards you, grabbing onto the wall a little closer but still leaving a respectful distance between you. “Do you know why I sent the 911?”

“No,” you admitted. “It scared me.”

“I apologize for that. I panicked.”

You hadn’t expected that confession from him.

“You panicked?”

He nodded slowly. “I was afraid you’d think less of me after how I acted. You haven’t spoken to me in days, so I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” The vulnerability in his voice was tangible.

“It’s not that I’ve been trying to avoid you, Grayson,” you explained. “I just… I mean, you haven’t spoken to me either.”

“I thanked you, I thought we were past what happened. I didn’t think we needed to talk about it.”

“You thanked me and then flirted and walked away.”

Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Did I?”

“You know very well what you did,” you said, trying to hide the blush on your face. 

He swam a little closer. His voice dropped to the same sincere tone it had adopted back when he was drunk. When you’d told him to be careful and he’d cupped your face. When he said he’d never hurt you, never. 

“Perhaps I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that I burdened you with my drunk self.”

“You’re not a burden, Grayson,” you told him, also pushing yourself closer to him along the wall. “It was no problem, really. Just a little entertaining.”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or bitter. 

The way he was looking at you was making you feel something. Something you couldn’t name but… didn’t quite hate. You started to move yourself a little closer to him until-

Splash.

Your hand slipped off the edge of the pool, accidentally sending you back. Not exceptionally far or deep into the pool, but enough to make you panic. You could keep yourself afloat, sure, but not when you were suddenly pushed away from the only solid thing keeping your head above water.

But before you could fully let the panic set in, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you upwards.

The sensation of being lifted was disorienting. You were overwhelmed by the sudden rush of water and movement, then the lack of water as your head reached the surface again. Even if you’d barely been below the water for a few seconds, you found yourself gasping for air. 

Grayson’s arm around you was the only steady thing in the chaos.

“Hey, hey” Grayson spoke, and it took a moment for your startled mind to process the words. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to focus. It took a moment for your breathing to calm down, but you helped yourself by rationalizing it; you’d been under the water for maybe five seconds, there was no need to panic so much.

The shock had just gotten you.

His voice broke through again, focusing your vision and hearing on him. “Just breathe, in and out. Nice and slow, just like that.”

You followed his instructions, taking deep breaths. Your panic began to fade, and you became painfully aware of how close he now was to you, the proximity at which he held you.

Grayson didn’t let go as you calmed down, simply keeping you tucked protectively in his arm as if the water was threatening you. He used his free hand to reach up and brush a wet strand of hair from your face behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so careful, that you felt your heart flutter.

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thank you.”

He only nodded in return, his usually sharp gray eyes beginning to soften as he stared down at you. He didn’t move his hand away after moving the hair out of your face. It stayed there, lingering around your ear, until he decided to move down, cupping your face.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time that shirtless Grayson Hawthorne was holding your face in his large hands and looking at you in a way that was more than an annoyed glance. 

But it felt different this time. More intense, more real. 

He wasn’t drunk, not hungover; there was no doubt in your mind that he really meant everything. His eyes were still locked on yours with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place, yet somehow felt deep within your core. 

He leaned forward, so close to you that your foreheads were almost touching. His eyes fluttered shut and you realized what was happening only after you felt the words he whispered against your lips-

“I’m sorry.”

Grayson closed the small gap between you, gently pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, like he was giving you the chance to pull away or tell  him to stop. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into the kiss, the arm around you tightened.

Your hands moved on their own, both sliding their way up to rest on his chest. He responded to your touch with a low hum that made you shiver despite the heated pool. 

His arm moved up to the back of your head, pushing you impossibly closer to him. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, like he was trying to express every emotion he’d been hiding for the past week. It was overwhelming, and for a moment nothing existed outside of you and Grayson Davenport Hawthorne.

When he pulled back, you kept your eyes closed. Grayson placed a small kiss on your forehead before resting it against his own. You were so close now, much closer than before, but that didn’t matter anymore.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he admitted softly.

“Me too, Grayson,” you grinned. “Me too.”

When he kissed you again, he tasted like those stupid cherries he loved and felt like the end of the world.

the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 wish-i-were-heather

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

@ratadediamante tagged me in this, soo…..

Head canons of our favourite ship’s morning routine: married edition✨

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• lyra’s and grayson’s jobs start at different times, with graysons starting earlier and lyras starting later, but grayson always makes sure to kiss her every morning before he leaves, and even make her breakfast if he has the time. sometimes, he’ll even take photos of her if she looks especially cute while sleeping :))

• but some days, lyra insists at waking up at the same time as grayson. the first time, she figured that it will be a cute, bonding time between her and her husband. she was wrong.

• grayson woke lyra up at 5:00 in the morning, and she grumbled while getting dressed, grumbled while brushing her teeth, and grumbled while doing her makeup. grayson secretly recorded the parts where she was turned away from him, and it was hilarious how mad she looked. eventually, grayson decided that he would wake up at 6 instead of 5, and now the couple wakes up together most days.

• these more present days, lyra is first to wake up, as her husband is a more deep sleeper, and wakes him up with kisses all over his face. grayson never told anyone this and never will, but some days he wakes up before the alarm he sets, yet he pretends to be asleep so that he can be “woken up” by lyras kisses. 🤭🤭

• despite lyras enthusiastic way of waking grayson up, she always insists on the two of them staying in bed for longer, to which grayson spends the next 5 minutes convincing her to get up. some days, if she gets too tired, he quite literally has to carry her out of bed. sometimes lyra feels too lazy to walk, so she argues with him on purpose, just so he can carry her into their walk in closet and she can get dressed. 😭☠️

• not every day, but some days, grayson will go for a quick morning swim, and lyra likes to tag along sometimes. she usually just ends up dipping her feet in the pool while sitting in silence, (bc she believes its therapeutic 😭😭) but other times she’ll read a book, or just tell her husband to swim closer so that she can chat with him.

• when they’re FINALLY in their walk in closet getting ready for the day, (bc i know they have one for their mass amounts of clothing) they always require opinions from each other on what to wear. lyra always has doubts on which top matches her skirt/pants the best, and grayson loves having her opinion on which suit style/colour would be the best for that day. sometimes lyra talks him out of wearing his suit jacket if it’s hot that day, and once she even convinced him to wear a nice t shirt and pants to the office for work. let’s just say, history was made that day.

• grayson never has too much time to get ready in the morning because his job starts earlier, but lyra always makes sure to play music while they brush their teeth/do their morning routines in the bathroom. she’s been doing it ever since they moved out, and every day they play different playlists. one playlist is adhered more to lyras taste, and the other is more of graysons kind of music.

• for MONTHS after they got married, lyra would spend most of her time getting ready in the bathroom just staring at her ring, and grayson has caught her doing it so many times. he finds it so cute and is so glad that she liked her ring (and her marriage 😏) so much. once her facial cream kept getting stuck in the cracks of her ring, so she took it off just to rub it on her skin. but the mournful look she was giving her ring on the counter made grayson believe for a moment that an eagle would swoop in from the bathroom window and snatch it away right before her eyes. he teased her about it, and she didn’t even care. her ring was pure treasure to her, and everyone knew it.

• once they’re out of the bathroom and lyra is all done with her makeup, the two are headed straight to the kitchen. normally grayson would head out with a coffee and not a second thought about getting a good meal, but after marriage, things change. and he had gotten so many talks from lyra and her mother about how breakfast was the most important meal of the day, that’s he’s finally given in and makes it a priority every morning. lyra herself didn’t even prioritize it, but after finally deciding that she was done with her extra grogginess in the morning, she made it a habit to always make grayson and her eat breakfast together. neither of them are skilled cooks, but lyra is amazing at making breakfast foods that her mom/stepdad used to make for her all the time, and grayson loves them + how happy she is while cooking them.

• other times though, they’ll be too lazy to cook breakfast, or just want something nicer, and just drive out to a diner instead. they have one near their house + both their workplaces that they really like, so they go there every time. they both find the place so peaceful and beautiful, and sometimes, if they’re both too tired or upset or however they may feel in the morning to talk, they sit on the same side of the booth and lyra lays her head on graysons shoulder. they know that they love each other so much, and sometimes, they just want to love each other in silence.

• after breakfast, grayson drives her to her place of work, and they make conversation along the way. gossip they heard from people they know, their dreams of the future, or even something that hasn’t been able to leave their mind. lyra usually is the one talking graysons ear off on the way to work, as after all her grumbling and groaning in the morning she suddenly feels productive on the car ride there, and grayson just listens with a smile. there’s nothing that he wouldn’t listen to as long as it came out of his wife’s mouth.

• when grayson drops her off, he gives her a lunch that he packed her in the morning, or that she packed for herself the night before. but, on days where lyra forgot to pack her lunch and grayson “forgot” to pack his too, he promises to pick her up for lunch to take her out. he then, for those days that he gets to see her for lunch, leaves with a smile, knowing that he has one more good thing to look forward to in his day.

EXTRA: married lyragrayson morning routine after a (very rare) bad fight :(( (this one is more of a rare situation as they don’t really ever get into bad fights, so that’s why the writing looks more like a fic than headcanons (bc i didn’t wanna say “usually” they do this or “typically” they do that as it’s uncommon for them to be fighting in the first place LOL))

• lyra wakes up on her bed, feeling cold and dull and wondering why, before turning around and realizing he wasn’t behind her. lyra is confused, but only for a moment, before her fatigue-riddled mind finally remembers that she sent him off to sleep on the couch last night. a numb feeling overtook her, and she got the sick sensation in her throat that she was going to start crying. except lyra wasn’t going to start crying, because she’d spent all last night sobbing into her pillow anyway.

• getting up, she kicked her feet off the side of her bed, her tired brain trying to process what to do next. where was grayson? what does a wife do after her first big fight with her husband? maybe people were right about the honeymoon phase, and all that was good before was gone. she looked at the ring in her hand, and after minutes of numb eyes staring, took it off. it was only for a moment, but the look of her empty ring finger and it sitting discarded on her bedside table made her feel guilty enough to put it back on.

• finally getting up, lyra decides that what’s done is done and she has to get started with her day. surprising to no one, she has a pounding head ache from all the crying she had been doing the night before. lyra walks into her closet and puts on a pair of clothes, the pair that had been rotting in the back of her closet because they’re as dull as lyra feels. perfect.

• walking over to her bathroom, lyra slides open the sliding door, and sees him. the suit he was wearing enunciated his muscles, and lyra hated that she couldn’t tear his eyes away from his broad shoulders and biceps. once she snaps out of it, she immediately backs away when she sees grayson getting ready, but he turns around, calling her name. still, she’s walking away when she feels two hands wrap around her waist and spin her around. grayson is again face to face with her.

• he immediately apologizes for his actions, having more patience and less pettiness than lyra, and explains them. but lyra still has a bad taste in her mouth from the fight. she refuses to meet his gaze, scoffing at his words. unfortunately, she forgot that grayson could also be rather stubborn. every time she cast her gaze else where, he would always gently take hold of the top of her neck with his fingers on her jaw and move her head to look at him again. of course, lyra did feel bad, but a part of her knew that the fight mainly wasn’t her fault. it was one of graysons problems that started it.

• once he’s done his apology speech, lyra just walks past him and into the bathroom, eager to just get ready and get this over with. unfortunately, grayson wasn’t going to stop trying that quickly. he followed her everywhere: the bathroom, the vanity, the kitchen, always at least a foot behind her as she walked. and lyra was done. she whipped her head around and demanded him to explain to her the point of the fight last night. grayson replied gently, but she could see that she was testing his patience. lyra mulled on his answer before stomping off to the kitchen, and opening her fridge door. pulling enough food for two out, she started cooking. after making 4 french toasts with sausages on the side, she puts it on two plates and puts them both on the island by the two chairs they had there. grayson, however, was making coffee, and when he placed lyras cup by her plate, she tasted it and immediately scowled. it was annoyingly just how she liked it.

• grayson and her ate in silence, but after graysons stares were becoming excruciating, she turned to him with a stone cold look on his face.

• “what?” she asked, bluntly.

• “did you not sleep well last night?” he asked her.

• she scoffed. “no, i was too busy crying to get any sleeping done.”

• she hates that she knew her husband so well in this moment, because when she said it, she knew exactly how he would react. which, for all of lyras fake bluntness, was what she wanted. with his eyes softening at lyras reply, grayson immediately stood up, picking lyra up from her chair and pulling her into an embrace. she couldn’t act harshly to her husband anymore. not after he set her feet back down on the ground and stroked her hair, murmuring apologies and “i love you”’s. he covered the crown of her head with soft kisses, and when lyra turned her head up to look at him with gentle eyes, he covered her face in kisses too, getting a laugh out of lyra as she whacked his arm in protest.

• the rest of the day goes smoothly, as when arguments do happen between the couple, they end before the two can leave the house. grayson puts hers and his coffee in a two go cup when they see the time, and leave the house holding hands. grayson drives, and although it takes them a minute, conversation is already starting up again. grayson leaves one of his hands out, and lyra, absentmindedly, starts tracing the lines of his hand while talking. grayson smiles at the fact that she didn’t even really notice she was doing it.

• once he drops lyra off in front of her workplace, he gets out of the car to open the door for lyra. after lyra gets out of the car, grayson immediately traps her in a passionate kiss, only stopping once lyra murmurs against his lips that she’s going to be late. he separates from her lips and strokes her dark hair as he did earlier, whispering to her how beautiful she is and how lucky he is to have a wife as special as her. lyra blushes, and begins to whisper a multitude of apologies about the fight back to him, but he just kisses her to stop her. he knows that she actually is going to be late if he keeps holding on to her, so he lets go of her waist and gives her a quick goodbye peck. lyra returns it and walks off, her head ache gone along with each and every single one of her worries.

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ummmm these ended up being so much longer than i thought they would, but OMG i just loved writing lyrason as a married couple so much!!! it just healed something in me calling them husband and wife, and i honestly need them to get married STAT bc i love them both too much 😭💗💗

[f4iry-bell]

CHANGE MY MIND

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

summary: grayson pushed reader away sm that he lost her.

tagging: @unnoodles @never-enough-novels @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07

warning: angst

a/n: inspired by @daystarpoet 's cai 🤭pls do check it out, it's amazing.

masterlist

He does it again, he has been pushing her away for the past week, not telling how he really feels. Whenever she asks him, it's always “I'm fine” , the obvious lie. It was so frustrating for both of them as Grayson just won't tell her what is up, and she can't just watch him go through something alone, without understanding.

Grayson was currently driving her to this event they're supposed to go to, something that's hosted by the heiress for charity. The problem is the drive was filled with Graysons lonely suffering, he wanted to be alone at the moment, especially with her constantly asking what's wrong. He was a patient person but he needed her to stop it, without thinking he snapped.

“Will you ever stop? I said I'm fine.” He gripped the steering wheel.

“I'm just trying to under—”

“No, you're trying to be annoying.” The words stung her heart. She didn't expect him to ever use such a word on her.

She looked at him with slightly teary eyes but she didn't want him to see her, so she turned her face towards the window, and kept quiet the entire ride.

Grayson, realising what he has done, gently put his hands on her knees to show her he didn't mean it, but she barely acknowledged his touch or him. She completely ignored him. It hurts Grayson that she ignored him, but he knew he deserved it. After all, he led her to this.

After the teacher held the event, she didn't wait for Grayson to open her door, she immediately got out and started walking to the event. Grayson, given his speed, caught up to her quickly. Once they were in he put his hands on the small of her back as he led her through the crowd, they met some new people, he introduced her to them as his girlfriend as if nothing is going on between them right. She slipped away from him for a while, while he was thinking about the situation, and his habit of isolation, distancing himself. She came back to where she left him, and spoke.

“Avery invited me to stay over at her place. You can leave if you wish to, I'll be going riding with her and Jameson.” She said, her face was flushed a bit.

“Oh.” He wasn't processing what she said at first. “You don't have to leave with them.” He gathered himself.

“I should.”

“No, you're doing this on purpose.”

“So?”

He hated how calm her tone sounded, but he knew her body language said otherwise.

“So you're being childish. We have an argument, and you don't want to face the aftermath.” He pointed.

“No, Grayson I don't. And it's rich coming from you because you don't face anything! You don't face me when you're feeling like—I have no clue what— and I have to sit here, and watch you go through it alone!” She snapped.

The words hit him, he knew it was true, and he hated it. When she noticed the lack of reply she shook her head, and walked away but Grayson caught her arm, gentle yet firm.

“Don't walk away from me.”

“Why? I thought I was annoying.”

“Don't— you're being difficult.”

“No, it's easy. You push me away, and now I'm going away. It's as simple as that.”

“No, you're being stubborn.”

“And you're not?” She scoffed.

“I'm sick of this, always arguing with you, always asking for answers that I can't give you. I'm sick of it.”

“Then let me go.”

He loosened his grip on her hand.

“No, Grayson, I meant let me go. Out of your life.” Her shoulders relaxed when she finished her sentence. Grayson's stiffened.

“I…You don't mean that.”

“I do. You either let me in or let me go.”

Grayson looked down, and shook his head. “You can't put me in this position.”

“No. I'm not, if you can't be vulnerable, if you still feel not comfortable enough to be vulnerable with me after six months of dating, then I don't think I'm the right person for you, Grayson.” It hurted her to say the last part. She really thought they were going to last forever when they started dating.

He was awfully quiet, he was deciding what to say. He knew what his problem was, but he just couldn't tell her. This is the right thing.

“Maybe you're right.” She knew what she said but hearing it from him was worse.

She nodded her head. “I'll take a cab home, and move out tomorrow.”

Grayson helped her with the cab. He wanted to be close to her at the last moment, because he was never going to get her back. After everything he did, and said she'll never take him back.

[danikamariewrites]

Here’s my masterlist! I will try to keep it updated as I post fics.

last update: 1/4/25

ACOTAR Masterlist | Throne of Glass Masterlist | Crescent City Masterlist | Fourth Wing Masterlist | The Inheritance Games

[midiosaamor]

❪ ✦ ❫ 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: grayson hawthorne x fem!reader.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: grayson hawthorne has a long routine for the morning; but his half-asleep-willing-girlfriend will make it all better.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, pet names, sleepy, female reader, forehead kisses, waking up early, swimming (are those even warnings?), use of Y/N, softie grayson (?)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 1073

��/𝐍: bro reader is me. also idk i saw this on a fanfic or like a headcanon with grayson but i forgot who made it?? TRLL ME WHO IT IS SO I COULD KNOW AND TAG THEM GRAHGG??

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @nqds @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle

grayson hawthorne has a strict morning routine. wake up at 5 to swim, swim until the others wake up, take a shower, get dressed, get coffee, and do whatever grayson does.

now, having a girlfriend who hates mornings, though, makes his routine have some… holes in it. though, whenever she said she wanted to do it with him, he couldn’t lie that he was happy with it.

“are you sure you want to wake up with me tomorrow, love?” he asks, looking at you nervously. you grin at him. “yeah, i’m sure. plus, i’m tired of not waking up with you in bed, so…” you trail off.

grayson lifts an eyebrow before sighing. “okay, but if you’re too tired to, just tell me and you could go back to bed, okay?”

“i know, don’t worry!”

now, you know that he wakes up early. but you never knew how early.

“love,” grayson says as he lightly shakes your shoulders. you groan tiredly, turning on your side. “Y/N, you said you wanted to wake up with me.”

“yeah, but i never knew how early…” you mumble, your eyes still closed. he chuckles lightly. “you said you wanted to, right?”

“mhm.”

“then come on.”

sighing, you blink your eyes open before rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you look up at the blond above you and hum.

you wrap your arms around his neck and close your eyes again. “‘cmon, pick me up,” you mumble, digging your face in his neck. grayson tries to hide his smile as he puts a hand behind the small of your back and picks you up with him.

you wrap your legs around him as he walks to the walk-in closet and sets you down again.

you yawn, rubbing your eyes as grayson gets out his swimming trunks and your bathing suit. “do you want to swim with me?” he asks, looking up at you from his crouching position.

you shrug and say i don’t know with your mouth closed. he rolls his eyes at you, amused as he takes the swimming clothes.

you watch him as he takes his swimming trunks and walks into the restroom with them. you frown. you’ve already seen everything, why does he need to change in the bathroom?

but, you suppose that him sleeping without a shirt is a reward itself already. even though the reason why, was a whole nother conversation that you two already had.

soon, he comes back out with his swimming trunks on and you grab your swimming suit and walk into the restroom.

you tiredly—slowly—change into your swimming suit, the feeling of the fabric against your dry skin making you feel weird. of course, it’ll feel better once you're wet, but still.

you toss your dirty clothes on the wall, where a piece of it opens and takes the clothes before closing again.

you snort and roll your eyes. rich people. walking back out, you see grayson making his bed with two towels on his shoulder and if you were any other person, you’d find this weird, cleaning while he’s in his swimming trunks.

if you were any other person.

he spots you walking out and straightens his back, offering his hand to you. smiling—still tired, surprisingly—you take his hand.

he smiles back and takes you out of his room and to the swimming pool. he swims until everyone else wakes up, he told you. you wonder how long that exactly takes.

all of the rooms are still dark as he makes it to the swimming pool, sliding open the see-through door.

still holding your hand, he steps outside and to one of the pool chairs, putting down the towels on top of it.

you hum and sit on the chair, bringing your legs to your chest.

“do you want to stay here?” grayson asks, lifting an eyebrow at you. you nod at him. “i’ll go in later,” you say, making him form a little smile at you.

he was never one to smile, but he always does when he’s with you. it brings toy joy; especially when it’s a full-blown smile, one of those rare ones.

you watch as he gets into the pool and begins to swim, going from the end of the pool to the other end of the pool, swimming in laps.

you watch how his back muscles move as he moves his arms, his biceps flexing. you blink and look away from him before he can see you staring.

even though you two are official now, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed whenever he caught you staring at him.

especially in situations like this one.

it was a little while later when you got up from your chair and stepped to the edge of the pool. grayson glanced at you sitting down, before making his way to you.

he’s over there before you even got your feet in the water, putting his hands on either side of your thighs. you put your hands on top of his own and lean down, kissing his wet forehead.

he wraps his arms around your hips and puts his head on top of your chest, making you wrap your arms around his wet neck.

“do you want to come in now?” he asks, his words slightly muffled from your chest. “yeah,” you hum, moving your legs back and forth in the water, both beside his hips.

he nods and trails his hands down to your bottom, pulling you towards him before he backs away from the ledge, bringing you with him.

you squeal as you wrap your legs and arms around him, the cold water making you freeze. “it’s freezing!” you exclaim, squeezing your eyes shut. “jesus—how are you not cold, gray?”

he chuckles and kisses your forehead. “i’ve gotten used to it, flower.”

a few moments later after swimming, kissing, and hugging, avery walks out with jameson by his side.

“stop flirting and come eat. breakfast is ready,” jameson says, smirking at his brother. grayson glares at him and slowly brings you down from where you were.

you had tried to see how long he could not breathe from underwater, but of course, he had to try to impress you and was under there longer than he should have.

of course, he didn’t tell you that, though. after all, he needs to beat you in the pool games tomorrow—which, of course, he’ll never admit to liking.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Mine? Epilogue

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Summary: her heart is so full.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 975

A/n: we are done with this series... I CANT BELIEVE IT OMG WERE DONE WITH IT 😭

THANK YOU TO YOU ALL FOR COLLOWING THIS SERIES EVEN THOUGH IT TOOK ME MONTHS TO FINISH IT ASJHAJDHDF 😭 ILY ALL SO MUCH ILY ILYY

im so happy heheh 🥹

anyways, enjoy!🥹❣️

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Mommyyy."

Y/n sighed, bowing her head and rubbing her eyes, water dripping from her fingers. She had only just gotten into the bath and Adelaide already missed her?

"Yes my love?" she called out.

"Where are you?"

"In the bath, baby."

Adelaide’s response was only the soft pitter patter of her feet as she ran into the bathroom, the door unlocked because Y/n knew her little girl loved following her around and if she had locked the door, it would have resulted in a tiny tantrum.

"Mommy, where is daddy?"

Adelaide had returned from school half an hour earlier, the car ride back home filled with her babbling about everything that had happened that day. Y/n had no choice but to nod along like she understood it all, while half the stuff she could not even make sense of.

It made her wonder if she even knew english.

Y/n raised her brows at her five year old. She only just remembered that her daddy was not home?

"Baby, daddy had some work. He will be returning soon."

Adelaide pouted, leaning against the tub and swirling her finger through the milky water.

"I miss him."

Y/n nodded solemnly. "Do you want me to call him?"

Adelaide’s eyes lit up. "Yes momma! Please."

Y/n wiped her hand on a nearby towel and picked up her phone to dial up her husband’s number.

"Hello?"

Y/n had the call on speaker phone, so before she could respond, Adelaide did.

"Daddy! Where are you?"

Y/n could hear the smile in Grayson’s voice. "I’m just parking the car sweetheart. Come greet me?"

Adelaide only giggled and ran off, leaving the bathroom door open. Y/n sighed again, shaking her head.

Adelaide was a daddy’s girl through and through. And he was just as smitten by her as she was him.

Y/n would never want it any other way.

"You there, love?"

Y/n blinked, turning her attention to her phone. "Yes."

He paused for a moment. "I forgot what I was supposed to say." he exhaled a frustrated breath, prompting Y/n to giggle.

From the other end, Y/n heard Adelaide’s voice squeaking and squealing and smiled, deciding to end the call. Her husband would soon be coming to say hi anyway.

My husband.

Despite being married for four years already, the thought made her blush every time.

The two had gotten married almost a year after he had proposed. It took the two almost twelve months to convince Liam and her father that Grayson actually loved Y/n. Y/n’s mother, despite being disappointed in Grayson, had forgiven him quickly.

Maybe she saw the way Grayson looked at Y/n, or maybe it was her mother’s heart that only wanted happiness for her daughter. Whatever it was, she had accepted the two’s engagement within the first month. It was the men of the house who still held a grudge.

Y/n’s father and brother would constantly poke at Grayson, at times borderline bully the poor man. But Gray did not budge on his decision to marry her, even knowing that there was a chance that her family would never accept him and always hold animosity towards his very existence.

And that very determination of his to stay with Y/n swayed her father and brother, and while they still weren’t too friendly with him still, things were constantly getting better.

"Mommy’s in there." Y/n heard just a moment before Grayson appeared in the doorway, Adelaide in his arms.

His brows rose the tiniest fraction when he realised Y/n was in the tub. "Well, hello mama. How are you?"

Y/n shook her head, suppressing her smile at the way he shot her a suggestive smirk. "Good."

Adelaide squirmed in Grayson’s arm before he could say anything else, attention already drifting.

"Daddy, I drew you in school today. Let me show you."

She was gone then, leaving Y/n with her husband, who’s lips spread in a flirtier smirk.

He walked closer to her, leaning in while eyeing her shoulders. Y/n could already see the gears in his head turning, already thinking of ways to persuade Y/n to let him join. He began leaning in when she splashed some water on him, making him jerk away.

"Y/n! What was that for?"

She giggled, leaning back in the tub, shaking away the few tendrils of hair that had escaped her bun. "Just felt like it."

He scowled at her, then before Y/n knew what was happening, he began tickling her.

Well, I didn’t think about the consequences.

"Gray- Grayson stoop."

He finally relented after a long moment of making Y/n laugh hysterically, her stomach squeezing.

If anyone who had known Grayson five years ago saw him now, so happy and warm, they would not believe it. But Adelaide had somehow, without even knowing, healed her father. He was happier now, he did not hide his emotions behind a mask, he smiled at everyone he talked to.

"That’s what you get for being mean to me."

She just smiled at him, her heart so full, and grabbed the collar of his shirt, not caring that she left behind prints of her hand, and tugged him close.

He let her do so without a complaint, smile on his lips when she finally kissed him.

"Daddy!"

Y/n pulled away, laughing lightly. "Go, daddy, your princess has summoned you."

He chuckled back, standing straight, but seemed to change his mind as he pecked her lips once more. "I’m yours."

Random confessions of love had become a habit of his now.

Kissing her forehead once he jogged out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Leaving her to smile to herself like a giddy teenager.

Mine.

He’s mine.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Mine taglist: @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @blocked-zombieartist @lillycore @lanterns-and-daydreams

@bubybubsters @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @thena101

@imaseabear @book-nerd-emi @cassie6392

The Inheritance Games Taglist: @dahliawarner @thena101 @yucanbmylxdy @sheisntyou @kitkatlover015

[sophiaatwdluver]

☆ Early morning burst of sunshine ☆

summary: (fluff) it’s time to get up for the day but Grayson wants to stay with you for longer, so end up staying with him and ramble about…. Everything. And Grayson loves it

warnings: the words “I love you”, clingy Grayson, short

word count: 358

Grayson was usually a morning person, but not today. He didn’t know why today was different… actually he did. You were in his arms, And it felt absolutely amazing. He never wants it to end. So when you start to try to get out of his grip to get up, he tightens his grip. “Stay.” Grayson says with a grumble, his voice thick with sleep. He pulls you back by the waist, holding you tight and close. “…please” he pleads, slightly desperate. You give him a glance, a small smile forming on your face as you see the desperation in his gaze. You give him a small nod before laying your head back on his chest. He wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you impossibly close.

you snuggle up to his chest, drawn to his warmth like a moth to a fire. “I love you” you whisper against his chest, sending slight vibrations throughout his body. A wide and genuine smile spreads along his face. He Doesn't smile often, but with you… it’s like he can’t stop. “I love you too angel… more than anything…” he says back softy, just above a whisper.

You start to ramble, about… well… everything. Your childhood, people who are annoying you, people who really matter to you, the things you love, your dislikes… everything. Grayson didn’t really mind. He loved to listen to you talk. He could listen to you talk for hours. Not only is your voice beautiful and soothing, but he also just loves being with you, and your talking is a constant reminder of your presence, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Another thing he likes about you talking is…. Just looking at you. He could also look at you for hours without getting bored.

He loves everything about you. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, your skin, your body, but mostly. Your personality. The way you get so excited over everything you like. The way you express your emotions in the most expressive ways. The way your face lights up when you talk about something you love…. Everything… he loves everything about you. He loves you.

HIIII. I wrote it… sorry it’s so short! I hope y’all aren’t mad at me for not writing twd but I just needed to express my LOVE for Grayson…. I’m ngl im proud of this… I feel like I’ve gotten at least a little better then my first ever fanfic… anywayyyy, to make it up to you guys I’ll write a Carl fic, give me ideas pretty please! Also would you guys like more Grayson? Maybe turn this into a series? Or make a series? I kinda really want to make one, for Carl or Grayson…. Give me ideas!

@carlsangel @rarllover3753 @txrasbae @hiro--aoki

[cherrys-writings]

Dating grayson and him getting jealous?:)thank youu!!

Your Favorite Kisses

+18 Explicit sexual content, biting, marking, jealous Grayson

It’s not like you could have guessed this was the missing piece to your relationship. Probably a dream relationship, two friends accidentally falling for each other. You and Grayson becoming an Us. Nothing felt more right, you had him now and you couldn’t get enough, finally able to touch every inch of him. You tangle your fingers in his light hair, losing yourselves in each other. Grayson’s toned body trapping you against the wall, wandering hands teetering the line between confidence and hesitation. Your legs wrapped around his waist. Never failing to pull a gasp from you when he easily hauls you off your feet. You get to watch Grayson let go of his control. His perfect, deliberate kisses turning rushed and clumsy. The grazes of his teeth turning to full bites. 

The little “innocent” kisses. Something about when he kisses your hand makes you blush harder than anything. In public, Grayson will rarely do more than kiss your hands or cheeks, but he doesn’t keep his hands to himself. Always needing physical contact: an arm around your waist, a gentle hand on the small of your back, hand resting on your knee, or his fingers laced with yours. 

Affectionately dubbed the “princely brother,” Grayson once responded to a question about your relationship with, “she’s my queen.”

Then there are the less frenzied kisses. When you’re straddling his lap or laying on top of him. Grayson is content to hold you against him and explore your mouth with his tongue. His hands cradling your face, gently biting your lip, groaning into your mouth when you inevitably roll your hips against his. Until his large hands lock you in place, shushing your whine with an “I know sweetheart,” murmured against your skin. Always waiting for you to settle before starting again. Slowly getting you riled up with his hands lazily wandering, until you’re practically begging him to fuck you. Even then, he takes his time, worshiping every inch of your body. Kissing every area of exposed flesh, sucking and biting until you’re marked to his liking. Each one in a place for his eyes alone. 

You wouldn’t dare let anyone know that your favorite kisses come when Grayson is jealous. When someone has been staring too long, gotten a little too touchy,or flirted a bit too hard. Grayson has only so much self-control and it takes all of it to civilly get you away from whoever thinks they can touch what belongs to him and get you out of there. He doesn’t let you get a word out before crashing his mouth to yours, claiming the sounds you make as he pins you against the nearest wall, counter, whatever and pushing his thigh between your legs. 

Biting the sensitive part of your neck and growling, “almost bent you over and fucked you right there. Show him exactly who you belong to.”

Grayson’s hand covering your mouth as he plunges his fingers into your soaked entrance. “So wet already. Bet you wanted him to see me fuck you, huh?”

Your barely muffled moans are answer enough, his fingers curling just right. Grayson is just as relentless with his fingers as he is with his cock, bringing you to the edge, but not letting you fall into bliss, not yet. He wants to hear you beg for it. Beg for him to let you come. He doesn’t care who hears you, they’ll all know how good he makes you feel. The things you let him do to you. Not that pompous ass that had the audacity to touch what’s his. 

Grayson has you bent over a counter, hand tangled in your hair, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as he takes what he needs. You’re thankful for the waterproof mascara when tears pool in your eyes because it's too much but just so good. His face pressed against your neck, muttering obscene words as he leaves deep purple bruises you know you won’t be able to hide. 

“Everyone will know who you belong to now. Fuck. Gonna have my cum running down your thighs the rest of the evening.”

Grayson stifles his groans against your neck, “who do you belong to?”

“I’m yours.” you pant

“Tell them who you belong to,” he growls

“I’M YOURS”

Your legs nearly give out when you come, shuddering in his arms. His hips jerk then still when he finally comes, panting against your shoulder. He helps you fix your hair as best you can before finding a back way to sneak you out of whatever event you’re at. Grayson makes sure to go back and find that bastard. Keeping eye contact as he wipes your smeared lipstick from his mouth with a handkerchief.

[morganwrites12672]

Can you do 🩰 Jameson Hawthorne x reader, please?

Jameson Hawthorne x Reader

A/N: I love getting TIG requests!

Summary: It was definitely love

Warnings/Tags: Female!Reader, Jameson x reader established relationship (romantic), fluff, fluffffffff, kissing

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This was love.

The look in Jameson's eyes as he stared back into yours. Was definitely love.

"I think I'm in love with you. Like really in love," Jameson whispered. He hadn't ever felt something like this before.

Your touch gave him butterflies, the mention of your name had him daydreaming.

"That's good." He looks confused before you finish, "because I'm in love with you to." The gap between the two of you is closed as his lips crash into yours

He tastes like whatever whiskey he had been drinking and a faint taste of lemon. Xander must be mad at him if he was giving him lemon instead of blueberry flavored scones.

All thoughts if the other Hawthornes leave your kind as Jameson's hand grasps into yours. He loves the way your hand fit with his. Fingers locked.

Jameson smiled as he pulled away

He didn't say anything. Just drinking in your beauty. Your soft skin was softly lit up in the pale moonlight. It reflected off of your body like the sun off of water. Everything about the scene in front of him was beautiful.

He threaded his fingers through your silly hair. He couldn't love you anymore. Everything about you was completely perfect.

"I don't think I can live without you," he whispered and the tone of his voice and sincerity in his eyes tells you he wasn't joking.

He didn't think he was. The thought of not being able to spend every waking second with you made him sick.

He could live without a lot of things. Hell, he could go longer without oxygen then without you.

"You won't have to, I have no plans of ever leaving," you whispered and cuddled into his bare chest.

The both of you could stay like this forever. Holding into the other for dear life.

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requests are open!

Reblogs and comments are very appreciated!

[violetvines]

wedding bells are ringing 🔔

summary: it's the day of libby and nash's wedding. libby is getting ready in her room, feeling nervous about walking down the aisle, pre-wedding jitters and all. she hears a knock at her door, and the last person she's expecting is standing on the other side... alisa ortega.

characters: libby grambs, alisa ortega, nash hawthorne

a/n: my first fic! I hope I represented them nicely <3

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

One. Two. Three. Four...

Libby counted her breaths in her head, steadying their rhythm, even if she couldn't seem to steady her erratic heart.

Today was the day. The kind of day she had carelessly dreamt about when she had been a girl. The kind of day she hadn't dared to even think about in recent years, because she didn't believe it would ever happen. She didn't believe this day would ever come.

She was getting married today. She was having a wedding.

It was funny, really, because just the night earlier, she had been laying in bed with Nash, and they had talked about the surreality of the situation. Or, as Nash would put it, a situation that was surreal to her, but very real and very true to him.

"What if it's not everything you dreamed it would be?" She had blurted that out almost immediately after Nash had rebuked her "surreal" statement.

He had proceeded to stare at her in the darkness, fingers still stroking her dark blue hair. "Libs..." he began, "no dream of mine is worth anythin' if you ain't in it."

"You are everything I could ever dream of."

"But-"

"Shhh," he shushed her, "I know what you're going to say. You're going to say that you're afraid because tomorrow, your last name becomes Hawthorne. You're going to say that you're worried you won't be able to live up to that name, and that you'll mess up and somehow cause the whole world to come crashing down."

"But you need to understand this. Tomorrow, I will no longer be just a man – I will be your husband, your sworn protector. And I will be there with you every step of the way to hold your hand. You will not mess up, and the world will not come crashing down, because I will be there. And if you're still doubting it, still thinking that something will go wrong, I will shield you from all their hurtful words and condescending stares."

Libby knew that when Nash pronounced his g's, he was being serious.

"You always think that you make a mess everywhere you go, but I need you to know that you turned my life from a mess to a blessing."

He had then kissed her forehead and she'd remained silent, tears forming in her eyes.

Libby sighed at the memory. Nash had such a way with his words. He always knew what she needed to hear, how to comfort her and be there for her.

She had fallen asleep shortly after that. Still, no amount of talking could change the fact that it was real and it was happening.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

"That must be Avery," she thought. Her sister had gone off to meet with the other three Hawthorne brothers, presumably in Nash's room. She hadn't seen him since morning and he wasn't allowed to see her in her dress until the altar. Avery was probably back now, so she was ready to bombard her with questions... if she could get her nerves to calm down.

Libby looked in the long mirror, smoothing down the front of her wedding gown. It was black, matching the glossy dark blue and black colour on her nails. She liked it. The makeup artist had done a great job too, and she felt like a queen. (As she should.)

"Come in!" she called, while opening the door.

The figure outside her door made her freeze. It was Alisa Ortega, better known as her sister's lawyer or her soon-to-be husband's ex-girlfriend.

She and Alisa hadn't always been on good terms, and honestly, she could understand it. Who would want to be friends with their ex's new significant other?

"Nash Hawthorne has never loved anything he didn't leave."

Alisa's words from the past echoed in her ears. Libby curled her fingers into fists. She didn't have time for backhanded remarks or snide comments right now. She needed to calm down because soon, it would be time to walk down the aisle.

Alisa was dressed formally, as if she had just finished a meeting at the law firm. She had an eyebrow raised. Great. "Are you going to invite me in or...?"

Libby stepped aside to let her in, not saying anything just yet. She took another deep breath.

"Look, Alisa, if you're here to talk to me about keeping up appearances later, I got it. I've been going through my vows everyday for the past week - I won't forget them. I've been practising my walk down the aisle with these killer shoes too - I won't fall. Don't you worry, I won't embarrass anyone. Not Avery, not the Hawthornes, not the family's reputation."

Libby hadn't realised that she was panting heavily.

"Oh, and also, please don't make a comment on my unconventional wedding dress. I know you don't approve, but here I am anyway." She spread her arms, displaying herself.

Alisa looked at her carefully. What she said next surprised Libby, and she almost pinched herself awake.

"You look beautiful, Libby."

"Wait... what?"

Alisa sighed. "I said that you look beautiful." She said it so matter-of-factly, like Alisa Ortega was someone who usually dished out compliments like that.

This wasn't the Alisa that Libby knew.

"You can get to it, you know. You can tell me what you came here for."

At that, Alisa gestured for Libby to have a seat.

"I came here to give you something," she began, but paused as Libby snorted.

"By something, do you mean... an NDA? After I marry Nash, I'm practically Hawthorne and I'll know all their secrets." She said, lightheartedly.

How was she joking around with Alisa minutes before her wedding? Then again, it was possible. Alisa didn't like to joke.

Libby waited for a cutting remark, but none came. Alisa only grimaced. Grimaced? Since when did Alisa Ortega grimace?

Why was Alisa acting so weird today? As far as Libby knew, Alisa was over Nash... unless... she wasn't, so that's why she was acting this way. She habitually brought her fingers to her mouth. When she was nervous, she bit her nails.

She didn't manage to do so, because Alisa gently set her hands down. "Hey... we don't want you ruining your nails before the wedding."

"Here, take this." Alisa reached into her pocket and procured a small box, one that could fit in the palm of her hand. Noticing Libby's curiosity, she explained.

"It's a small music box. I thrifted it from somewhere, and I thought you'd like it. The designs at the sides of it are very... gothic." That last word sounded like it troubled her to say it.

Libby laughed with disbelief. "Alisa... you mean to say that you got me a wedding gift?" Her giggling died down, as she was suddenly overcome by an unexplainable feeling. Gratitude? Shock? Wonder? All three?

Alisa shrugged. "It would be rude to attend the wedding without bringing a gift." At that, Libby's mouth fell open. She hadn't thought that Alisa would even set aside time to attend her wedding.

Alisa didn't let her deal with the shock for more than three seconds. "Go ahead and open it."

She did. Her fingers trembled as she wound up the crank.

The first notes played and she immediately noticed that it wasn't just any music. It was wedding music.

"Here Comes The Bride" was playing and the tinkling notes filled the room. As Libby watched, the room shined with a sort of ethereal glow. The music faded, and she turned to watch as Alisa stared at her wistfully.

She could have sworn there was a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Thank– thank you." Libby stuttered, because what else could she say? None of this had been expected.

She now expected Alisa to leave but that didn't happen either. "I also wanted to say that I'm happy for you. Truly."

"Everything you said just now made me realise that I haven't been the best person to you, and for that," she took a deep breath, "I'm sorry."

Here was Alisa Ortega opening up. Here was Alisa Ortega apologising to her. Alisa Ortega was apologising to Libby Grambs.

"I wish you and Nash a happy marriage." Libby sat there in silence, still processing her words.

Alisa looked at her wristwatch and caught herself then. "I should be going now. Before things get out of hand down there."

She was at the door when she turned around and said, "you don't have to forgive me. Having you around wasn't the worst, you know? You made life at Hawthorne House happier – I can see it in their faces. When Nash talks about you, he has a sparkle in his eyes, something that was lost long ago. Xander loves your baked goods and I see him popping his head in the kitchen every evening, with hopes that you're there, baking something. Even Grayson and Jameson love having you here."

"You're not an embarrassment, Libby Grambs. You are everything they never knew they needed."

"You're a wonderful sister. And I'm sure you will also make a wonderful wife."

With that, Alisa stepped out of the room, not leaving space for Libby to reply. She didn't need to turn around to know that at that second, Libby had mumbled a million thank-you's, feeling touched at what had just passed between them, diamonds glistening in her eyes.

"You're not half as bad either, Alisa Ortega." She whispered to the empty room, eyes still on the space that Alisa had vacated.

And somehow, she didn't feel nervous anymore.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

"You may now kiss the bride." The priest announced.

Before Nash could pick her up in his arms and plant a kiss on her lips, she scanned the crowd one final time.

There, in the middle of all the chaos, sat Alisa Ortega.

Libby grinned at her, not expecting anything but a small smile back.

She was surprised again, when she was met with the sight of Alisa grinning back. It was the first time she had seen a genuine, happy smile on Alisa Ortega's face.

She hoped it wouldn't be the last.

lace divider by @kodaswrld

[inmyheaddd]

walkin out the door with your bags - grayson hawthorne x reader - part 9

⤷ ''i don't wanna be forward, i don't wanna cut corners // savor this with everything i have inside of me''

a/n: this took the longest ever to write omg!! im so sorry for the wait but i hope you enjoy ❥❥ also, hot by cigarettes after sex is literally their song i might sob 😭 summary: someone gives grayson a piece of advice, and grayson spends hours trying to decipher and make sense of it, just to find out the right answer was infront of him. series masterlist — other parts

flashback, 16 years old..

''this is highly dangerous, you know.'' grayson's voice was steady as he called out. he climbed right behind you anyway.

you were climbing up to the rooftop of your house on a very tall ladder. perhaps it wasn't the safest thing, but your parents had blocked all the staircases that led to the rooftop to stop you from going up there. you found ways around it, and they hadn't noticed the ladder yet.

''okay,'' you laughed, seeing your breath in the cold air. you looked back briefly to see his gaze trained on his feet below him as you both continued going up the ladder. ''i don't really care.''

''you should.'' he mumbled back, hint of sass in his voice. you weren't sure if he wanted you to hear that or not.

''please, you care enough for the both of us,'' you replied anyways, because you remembered everything about grayson was intentional. he was capable of being very silent when he wanted to.

two more steps, and you finally reached the top of the ladder and climbing onto the rooftop. you didn't struggle much, you came here every time the sky looked pretty, and in winter, that was pretty much every night. you exhaled as you sat, ''it evens things out.''

graysons eyebrows flashed up in agreement for a moment, not arguing on that.

he reached the top and climbed over with no struggle. he sat a few inches away from you, your gaze still trained on the sky ahead. you looked behind you, taking in the the whole sunset with its shades of bruised purple and little streaks of orange.

you pulled out a small thermos from your hoodies pocket.

well, it wasnt really a small thermos, it was... more of a larger flask that you had stole from your parents room because you needed something to keep your drink warm.

but what could you say? desperate times called for desperate measures.

grayson glanced at you, then away, then immediately did a double take again and eyed the object in your hand.

his expression reminded you of a teacher: a stern, disappointed, and confused expression all together. his nose crinkled slightly, and you almost laughed out loud.

''grayson,'' you laughed, ''it's hot chocolate... i couldn't find my thermos, relax.'' you understood where he was coming from, i mean, it was a flask, but you weren't a drinker.

he didn’t say anything, but his expression said it all. he stayed looking at you conspicuously and furrowed his brows slightly.

you laughed in disbelief, ''what? you want it?" you teased. when he simply looked at you with a disapproving brow raise, you gasped.

''grayson!" you brought a hand to your chest, ''you seriously think that low of me?" you laughed and leaned closer, waving the thermos dramatically in his face. “look! see? it’s hot chocolate!”

he leaned back, avoiding the container, his lips twitching like he was fighting off a smile.

“no, no,” you teased, moving the thermos side to side in his face as he tilted his head away. “you’re going to see for yourself.”

“stop,” he muttered, his voice still calm but laced with humor.

“look!” you insisted, waving it closer.

finally, he reached out, his hand carefully covering yours to still your movements. “alright,” he said, twinges of laughter in his voice. “i understand. it’s hot chocolate.”

his hand lingered for a second longer, and your eyecontact remained, before graysons eyes flickers across your face and his hand went back to its side.

''its a tuesday evening. and i'm on a rooftop.'' you sighed as you took a sip of your hot chocolate just to prove it even further, ''i'm not that reckless.''

you screwed the lid back on and put it back in your pocket, then you covered your hands with your sleeves in an attempt to fight off the cold.

''you think you're reckless? you should see my brother.'' grayson muttered, half to himself and half to you, but there was a softness in his voice.

you set your hand back down, and only then realised just how close it was to graysons. your fingertips were a hairbreadth away.

you felt like you physically couldn't pull your hand away, and even if you did could move, it would just make things awkward.

you remembered you had to respond to grayson's statement somehow. ''jameson practically invented dangerousness and recklessness and bad decisions. he doesn't count.'' you shot back jokingly as you looked at grayson.

he huffed a chuckle, looking at his lap and shaking his head slightly. surely he must've felt your hand right next to his.

your fingers twitched slightly. you could feel the tiny movements coming from his own hand- whatever you were thinking right now, he was clearly thinking the same thing.

you were acutely aware of the closeness of his hand to yours. your gaze stayed straight ahead. you didn't dare look at your hands.

your fingers inched a little closer to his. you heard your heartbeat in your chest.

the cold didn't seem like a problem any more, and you felt his callused fingertips run over the back of your hand. then your pinky interlocked with his.

it was a simple action, but it was near impossible to ignore the way it fuelled the part of your brain that screamed 'you like grayson!'

you stared down at your intertwined hands, you knew grayson did too, but neither of you said anything. he swallowed thickly and simply brought up a story of his brothers being 'truly reckless,' and how you seem like the furthest thing from it.

soon enough, the minutes turned to hours, and you discussed everything with grayson.

from the way school had been, plans you had for the winter, if you wanted to come to true north with him and his brothers for a few days (you said yes), stories he had from true north, and sharing horror stories of ski trips.

the conversation naturally began to lull. not in a bad way, but in a comforting way. you scooted a little closer to grayson with your hands still intertwined.

you looked up at the glittering sky, ''you know, i feel really bad for you right know.

''why?'' grayson looked at you,

''because you're not wearing your glasses, and you can't see the moon tonight.'' you responded simply, glancing at him for a second before looking back at the sky. ''it's really pretty.''

grayson took his gaze to the sky, and you were right, he couldn't really see it. he could just about see the shape of it, but that was it.

he took his gaze back to you, watching you admire the moon. ''i'm sure it is.''

you hummed a little in agreement, dangling your feet back and forth over the edge. a gush of freezing cold wind suddenly rushed past the two of you, and the way you physically shuddered made you both laugh.

''god,'' you chuckled, ''i should've worn a coat or something. i didn't know it would be so cold.''

grayson nodded, '''we are quite high up, naturally, its going to be colder up here,'' he gestured to the ground below. everything looked so small from all the way up here. that was partly why you loved it.

you had a hoodie on, but grayson held his arm open anyway and invited you in. you felt 10x warmer when he enveloped you into a side hug, but surely that was because of the cashmere sweater he wore, and not him.

''grayson?'' you hummed, your head on his shoulder.

''yes?''

''you know, um thanks for always being here,'' you muttered, feeling his fingers trace patterns on your arm , ''even when i'm irrational and i'm messy and I annoy you.''

he was silent for a moment, and you were tempted to look up so you could get a read on his face. ''you could never annoy me.''

you could practically feel his voices' vibrations, and his tone was soft. different from the way he usually talks with others- stern, assertive. but he wasn't that way with you.

''but i'm irrational and messy.'' you insisted.

his hand began to slowly run up and down your arm, soothing your nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. ''those aren't bad things.'' he told you. ''not when its you, at least.''

you stared at his hand interlinked with yours. not when its me? what does that mean? you thought.

you opened your mouth, just about to respond when— slam.

you and grayson jolted out of each others touch. your heart was beating crazily fast.

''holy shit,'' you put a hand on your chest, catching your breath as you and grayson caught eachothers gaze and laughed out of relief.

you quickly realised you had missed being in his arms, but you just couldn't return to a moment like that. a part of you wonders if it even happened, it felt so fleeting.

you nervously laughed, tucking your hair behind your ears before you carefully peered down over the edge to where you heard the noise.

you didn't feel any better or less frightened, though. the scene below you was your mom storming out the car, dressed like she had just gotten back from an event. you quite couldn't make out her words, and her pace was as fast as ever. even from afar, her posture looked rigid and her neck looked strained, like she was holding back tears or screams.

your dad got out of the car right after, slamming his side of the door too and shaking his head to himself as he tried to catch up to your mom. his hands were out like he was pleading or reasoning, and his expression was something dark that you didn't like.

grayson followed your gaze, seeing the scene you were looking at. he hadn't realised he was smiling a little until he felt his face drop.

grayson looked back at you, but it was hard to tear your gaze away from the scene, even when this scene was something you saw quite frequently. you tried to hone into your eavesdropping skills to hear what they were arguing about this time, but you were simply too far.

you name fell from his lips, and he repeated it twice when you didn’t answer. then finally asked, “are you alright?”

you didn't look straight at him, but he saw your expression. and he saw the way your fingers curled into a fist. you chewed on your bottom lip and blinked rapidly, then untucked your hair from behind your ears so it shielded your face.

he felt his heart drop. he had never seen you cry before.

you always acted as if nothing bothered you, and when it was obvious that something did, you hid it.

for a terrible moment, he worried that he wouldn't know what to do, that he'd somehow make things worse, but he simply let his actions come naturally.

he silently wished that this would be the last time he’d see you cry, he wished he could keep you happy forever.  

you seemed to finally realise he was still looking at you, and you sat up straight.

''sorry— i’m sorry.'' you mumbled as you quickly wiped at your eyes with the back of your hands. ''oh my god,'' you let out a chuckle, like it would make him forget the tears. ''that was so embarrassing, i'm literally fine. i don't know what that was.''

grayson watched you try and regain a sense of normalcy, ''its not embarrassing to feel,'' he told you.

he knew that was highly hypocritical of him to say that, considering the way he acted, but he would truly sit with you for hours listening to you talk about your feelings. for days, until the end of time, even.

he'd always be there for you, and he wished you would believe him when he said it. ''would you,” he trailed off, gaze flickering between your features, “would you like to talk about it?”

he knew the answer was likely going to be no, because he knew you, but he wanted to let you know that he’d be there for you always, if you suddenly decided you did want to talk.

you were silent for a moment, and every second of it, with every shuddering breath you took, he felt a stronger urge to be the one who wiped your tears, the one who held you. he watched you tentatively, concern written all over his face.

he recently felt like his feelings were blurring over the lines of them being simply friendly.

“actually,'' you sniffled a little, ''can we not talk about it?” you said, just like he had suspected.

you felt him nod, and said no more after that. he wouldn't push you. he knew when it was right to be persistent, and when to simply stay silent.

you took a deep breath. ''i'm feeling even more messy and irrational right now,'' you tried to lighten the mood with another laugh, but it just sounded sad. ''i don't know why i got like that, i mean, its not even that bad, compared to others.''

graysons brows knitted together. ''it doesn't matter what its like compared to others.'' he told you, his voice steady while yours wavered.

you finally raised your head from his shoulder ever so slowly and looked at him. your expression was unfamiliar. it was pained.

his gaze flickered between your eyes. he found himself speaking once again.

''i don't care about the others, i care about you.'' he squeezed your hand slightly, ''you should care about you, too.''

present...

grayson was oddly exhausted. he doubted that has anything to do with the fact that he had slept at 2 in the morning, though. the first thing he did was take a cold shower, but even that didn't help.

he didn't like to have caffeine so early on an empty stomach, but it seemed like he had no choice.

''good morning.'' he nodded curtly at gigi who was leaning on the counter, making his way to the coffee machine.

she was looking at him strangely, but that wasn't a rare occurrence, so he paid it no mind. grayson took a mug out of the cabinet, then he heard gigi clear her throat from behind him. he raised a brow to himself, still looking down at his cup.

then he finally realised- gigi was in his house.

he turned around swiftly, cup still in his hand as his eyes glazed over gigi suspiciously.

''you're in my house.'' he pointed out blankly, and gigi rolled her eyes.

''why are you in my house?'' grayson ordered. now, he was definitely shaken out of his previous stupor.

''you know, you're a real idiot, grayson.'' that was not a good morning, or an answer to his question.

''excuse me?'' he put his cup down on the counter he was standing behind. he was confused why gigi was in his kitchen to begin with, much less calling him an idiot at the ripe hour of 6 in the morning as he tried to make his black coffee.

''listen,'' gigi put on a stern face and hopped on the counter, but it was difficult to take her seriously with her bed head and ever so slightly puffy face, clearly having just woken up. how could grayson possibly not hear her come in?

''im gonna cut straight to the point.'' she started, and Grayson was glad she said that, because he was not in the mood for anything else but an explanation. ''I'm here because you did something. ever since about 3 days ago when you visited she’s been acting all weird. she won’t tell me what’s wrong, but i know something’s up with her. and i know it has something to do with you.'

she didn’t even have to say your name, there was only one her when it came to grayson. ever since that day where you came up to him so many years ago, asking him why he sat alone. there was always one her. you.

a heavy weight settled over his chest. “what makes you think i visited?” he forced himself out of his thoughts and asked, not confirming he did visit you, but not fully denying it either.

gigi rolled her eyes like it was obvious before she stole a grape from the fruit basket on the counter she sat on top of. “she won't tell me anything, did her whole control freak routine. i woke up the next morning with the whole living room redone, her room layout completely changed, and every surface literally polished and sparkling. she doesn’t just do that for no reason. for anyone.”

gigi tried to sound unbothered about the topic when she spoke, but the way she fiddled with her hands gave it away to grayson. it was obvious though, no one would like to talk about how their best friend was hurting. just as much as no one would like to hear about it, and know they caused it.

could he even call you his best friend anymore? he had never said it outright to you, but he suddenly wished he had told you how much he appreciated you every second he had the chance.

“you must've messed up bad, gray.” 

grayson averted his gaze. suddenly the fruits looked extremely interesting.

he couldn’t take back the horrible actions he made, the ways he tried to cope, the way he tried to silence his fears. they were done, they were his fault. that didn’t stop him from regretting them every single moment of his days. but even then, he still somehow seemed to be making the wrong choices. 

“I suppose you wouldn't be able to give me any advice on what to do?'' he asked rhetorically, his voice carrying too much emotion than he would like. he sat up straight in his chair and cleared his throat. 

grayson never asked for advice. he never asked for help. he did everything alone.

and look where that got him.

“hey, i'd give advice to you any time you need it!,'' gigi said half jokingly, tucked her hair behind both of her ears, her voice carried a weight that revealed that she could tell just how grayson was feeling.

''listen, i’d like to be super cool and mysterious, and give you some vague advice like ‘do whatever your heart tells you,’ or, ‘the right choices will find you,’'' gigi said, putting on a deep voice and making quotation marks with her fingers. ''but you somehow manage to always make the worst decisions ever. without fail.” her voice was back to normal, raising her eyebrows and pointing at him.

even he knew she was right. 

“you’ve messed up way too much, and i don’t want you hurting my best friend any further, so i’ll give you this:” gigi continued, and grayson realized she wasn’t doing this for him, she was doing it for you. then, another thought that he been trying to avoid came up again: he hurt you much more than he had realised. 

“talk to her. and stay. you know her better than anyone, why on gods green earth would you believe that when she said she’s ‘fine’ or that ‘she doesn’t care’ that she was seriously saying the truth?” gigis expression turned sour as she furrowed her brows, like the topic annoyed her to even speak about. 

believe me, grayson thought, however aggravated you are about this, i’m infinitely more aggravated with myself. 

“you’re annoyingly persistent sometimes, so make some good use out of it.” gigi said, “i’m not going to tell you the things she’s told me exactly, but, you must’ve been a real idiot to just stand there and nod when she tells you that a kiss you shared was a mistake.”

grayson wasn’t surprised gigi knew all of that. grayson figured that was all he would get from gigi, but he selfishly found himself wanting to know more about how you were feeling. he was grasping for anything. you had both seemingly cleared up the air, decided you were 'friends' again and nothing more, but you hadn't even talked since.

usually, in a time back when things were as perfect as they could’ve been, you would’ve been telling him first hand. now, he had to find out about how you felt because of him by his half sister. 

it would never go back to the way it was. grayson could only hope to make it better than before.

he was no stranger to saying something, and meaning, truly longing for something completely different, so he didn't blame you for not

he wonders what he did wrong this time.

the girl, ella.

he was told it would be a good pr move on his end. he hadn’t been seen in the media for a while— which was how he liked it— but his team argued it would be good for him to resurface before the additions to the charities, to get more press. 

he would’ve simply said no. it would've been final, and his team wouldve never brought tbut the girl, ella, was what ended up convincing him. she was trying to hide her relationship with a co star of hers, another girl grayson couldn’t quite remember the name of.

all he remembered was being told ella was being bombarded with rumors, and she needed to out a stop to them before the second season of her show premiered. she was severely distressed—it was her first show, and she herself hadn't even come out to the public yet.

so he agreed. it went on for 2 weeks until there was enough social media posts and tabloids posted of them two.

he thought about the way your voice wavered when he went over to talk, the way you eyed him silently, the way your body language contradicted your words. you were silently angry at him, but you stayed friendly. he didn't have to solve anything to figure that one out.

he could always understand you even when you didn't have the right words to say it yourself, or when you simply didn't want to. a picture played in his mind— one of him nodding his head with an arm around your shoulders, offering comfort silently when you mumbled ''actually, can we not talk about it?" into his chest quietly. he remembered how his heart ached.

you had both mastered the language that had been created and growing between you since the day you met. now, he still knew it, but he had nowhere to even put it to use. he doubts he could ever truly forget it, though.

grayson realised too late how horrible of an image the ella debacle must've painted in your eyes. it was possibly the worst choice he had ever made. right after the days he went not speaking to you, and the times he didn't stay. 

he hated himself for the decisions he made, and gigi should've hated him too.

''why are you here, telling me this?'' grayson finally said. he was aware that his eyes were instinctively narrowed suspiciously, but he couldn't help it. gigi looked at him sympathetically.

''because, unfortunately, you guys are too stubborn and stupid to see what's clearly right infront of you.'' she said simply with a dramatic sigh. ''and you need me— the super-smart-all-seeing-gigi, to help the process along a little. and, despite the way you've been acting, you're my brother,'' her voice softened, ''and i don't like seeing you sad.''

he didn't even deny he was sad. there was no point. he contemplated asking more, brows furrowed as he looked at the counter infront of him, hands gripping the edges tightly. but he stayed silent instead, replaying gigi's words and trying to make more sense of them.

''...well, if that's all,'' she said, breaking the silence. ''i've got to go, i have a flight to catch.'' that explained why she was awake at 6 in the morning.

''where are you going?'' his grey eyes narrowed once again, this time, he was acutely aware of it.

''none of your business.'' she taunted, slipping right back into their sibling banter. ''well, actually—'' a smile stretched across her face despite her efforts, ''its noah, i don't know if you even remember him, but, he's taking me on a trip.'' she blurted, clearly too happy about that fact to remember that she was supposed to be holding a grudge against grayson. ''but— not that its any of your business, of course.''

grayson nodded. a part of him was hurt that gigi doubted he'd remember someone significant to her, but his mind went to a different place before he could dwell on that fact any longer.

he remembered one of the conversations he had with you, on the night you kissed.

''we know eachother. i trust you more than most.'' he once told you, remembering the way your eyes looked into his and the way they glinted when he finished his sentence. he remembered wanting to smile at that.

''yeah, and gigi knows noah. you should be able to trust her with her choices.''

“is she truly happy?”

“yeah, gray, she really is happy.”

he cleared his throat and brought himself back to the present moment. he wouldn't focus on the past right infront of someone, he couldn't, it simply hurt too much. ''right.'' he said coldly, ''of course. have a safe flight, gigi.''

she smiled awkwardly and got up from the counter. she took an apple with her, and gave him one last look, one that made graysons heart twist.

''why did you have to ruin this?'' her eyes seemed to say. ''you're my brother. she's my best friend. why are you making me choose?"

grayson wished he had a response. instead, he just watched her walk off with his brows knitted slightly.

he exhaled a long breath once gigi left, his elbows on the counter as his head fell into his hands. he raked both hands through his hair, roughly, not like the way you would. he shook before he abruptly stood up.

so many feelings, yet he couldn't articulate a single one properly.

there was one that seemed clearer than the rest. he hated himself--for ruining things for and hurting you when all he wanted was to protect you.

he let out a low, bitter laugh to himself.

some protector he was.

he did the one thing he always did when he needed to think clearer, to have control over something when all else seemed to be wrong and disorderly.

he made his way outside, grabbed a towel, and went for the pool.

the water was icy against his skin, but he welcomed it. he pushed off the edge and began swimming laps, each stroke more forceful than the last.

the tension in his chest didn’t lessen—it grew, tightening with every thought of you.

he swam faster, rougher, but not deviating on his strict rigid form. he couldn't. 'you need to talk to her. and stay,' gigis words played out in his head.

should he reach out again? what if you get annoyed? what if you're sick of him?

he knew you must've been somewhat sad, judging by the fact that gigi came to him, but what if you were more angry? what if gigi read it wrong, and you really wanted nothing to do with him?

the only reason he doubted the last one was because gigi knew you better than anyone. she couldn't have read whatever you were feeling wrong. whatever she saw, she felt the resolution was for you two to fully see it out to the end. to 'talk and stay' with each other.

'you're grayson davenport hawthorne, you don't worry about what ifs.' he reminded himself. what would his grandfather say? much worse, he had no doubt.

besides, you were his best friend. doing something would be better than doing nothing and let the friendship and possibility of more slowly fade, then disappear.

he swam and swam, and ran through all the possible outcomes in his mind. he did this until his arms burned and his lungs begged for air. it still wasn’t enough, though.

grayson pushed through the pain, through the ache in his muscles, until he couldn’t anymore. gasping for breath, he finally stopped and hung onto the edge of the pool, his head tilted forward as water dripped down his face.

his chest was heaving, and the pain he had felt was finally all crashing down. it was easier to ignore when he was moving. he clenched his jaw with his grip on the pool’s edge tightening. he didn't feel any better. he didn't feel like he had any more control over his life.

he was an idiot. an idiot who was still drowning, even now, on dry land.

he pushed himself up and out of the pool, his brows furrowed frustradely and muscles taught as he dried off.

he wouldn't let himself mope around any longer.

his hair was still slightly wet as he sat at his office desk. he had taken another shower, this time, it was steaming hot.

his eyes kept flickering to his phone as he worked on his laptop. he found himself wanting to reach out and call you.

no, he needed to plan it better. he couldn't just expect you to answer and for you to listen to him.

but- wasn't how the problems arose in the first place? waiting for the perfect moment that never came?

it was that way years ago, it was that way a few weeks ago, and it seemed like it was about to be that way again.

he closed his eyes for a brief moment. focus. then he got back to work.

still, despite his efforts, he couldn't focus. his mind was in an entirely different place. he read over an email before he pressed send.

how did he manage to mistype no as know?

he stared at the powered off phone laying on his desk once again.

the last time he had texted you, every single one of his brothers had pushed him to.

now, he was utterly alone in his office. his brothers were all out of the house, and his black out curtains kept his room dark, except for the low orange lamps you had forced him to put in there 'to make it look less robotic'.

his eyes flickered to his phone one more time, and he finally retracted his hand from his laptops keyboard.

he turned on his phone, and from then on it was muscle memory, the one thing he would do whenever he was feeling lost. whenever he needed clarity in his peculiar life of his.

he called you.

the phone rang, his thumb hesitated over the red cancel button, but he couldn't. he'd look like even more of a coward.

he was still unblocked, and despite not speaking to each other for so long, you picked up.

''hello?''

his heart beat faster than it did when he swam. ''hey, its grayson.''

you were silent for a second, ''I know.''

you phrased it like a question, almost.

''i apologise for the abrupt call, but, there seems to be a gap in my life where our daily phone calls once were, and to be frank, i missed them.'' he said it straight forward. he prayed that gigi's advice was right. he started the talk part, now he needed to stay. ''how have you been?''

“uh,” you laughed slightly on the other line, and grayson found himself missing the jokes you’d make that he’d call terrible, the nonsensical rants, or the way you’d beg to pick the movie to watch every single without fail on those movie nights you’d hold every friday. the one time he picked, it was the night you kissed. the night where everything changed, and grayson couldn’t tell if it was for the better or worse. 

''well, I just broke my glasses, for one.'' you replied, ''like, literally two seconds ago.'' he heard the laugh in your voice, like the reasoning behind it was funny. but you didn't tell him the the story behind it.

you stayed silent, and that was one of the major tells things weren't how they used to be. stay, he reminded himself.

you were the type of person that when he'd ask about your day, you'd talk about every single detail, down to the tiniest things like your losing your favourite pen or tripping over a rock on your morning walk.

he didn't realise he could miss something so much.

''so uh,'' you cut into his thoughts with a small laugh that he could tell was out of nervousness. ''i need to go fix that. but other than that, i'm pretty good.'' grayson nodded, even though you couldn't see him.

''shame about your glasses, those frames did really suit you.'' he let the words escape his lips before he could think twice.

''thanks, but, they are long gone, for now, at least.'' you said. ''besides, them breaking now gives me an excuse to wear contacts. looking on the bright side.. but uh, enough of me, how are you?

grayson leaned back in his chair, ''ive been alright. however, i've been thinking,'' he began, ''i know we've sorted things out since i last saw you, but we haven't talked much, and i think it would be quite nice for us to see each other some time.''

''oh,'' your voice was quiet on the other end, and grayson sat back up straight again. ''yeah- yeah, sure. i was actually thinking about that earlier today. but i didn't really know how to talk to you, so, I'm glad you said something.''

gigi's advice was right.

'didn't really know how to talk to you.' that part made graysons chest hurt strangely, like he was back in the pool.

''what an odd coincidence,'' he responded simply.

you hummed before you spoke, your voice was quiet on the other line. ''I thought you didn't believe in coincidences.''

he was silent

''sorry,'' you chuckled, ''I don't know why I said that, it just popped up in my mind- you used to say it all the time, and... yeah.''

don't apologise, you haven't done anything wrong. youre right, I usually don't.

what changed?

the response in his mind was instant: he met you.

''strangely enough, i'm not too sure.''

he heard you snort from the line, ''well, isn't that a first?'' you muttered, not giving him a chance to respond before you started again. ''um, gigi actually left for the airport this morning, so i'm incredibly bored right now.''

''would you like to organise something for today, then?''

you laughed again, ''is that your weird way of asking me if i want to hang out today?"

''you know i've never been particularly skilled in these areas.''

''oh boy, i know.'' you exhaled, ''well, i'll be heading to the park at like, 12, so...'' you trailed off, and he heard a slight smile in your voice. he wished he was seeing it, instead. ''if someone happened to, you know, coincidentally be there, i wouldn't necessarily turn and run away.''

he couldn't stop his own grin, though he knew he shouldn't feel too happy just yet. ''is that your strange way of telling me to meet you at the park at noon?''

''yes,'' you didn't miss a beat, ''it is.''

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm @goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington @peppapigsposts @thoughtdaughter3 @cant-see-sam

[wish-i-were-heather]

A FOOL FOR YOU PT 5⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 2610 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)

STORY: after so long avoiding it, you and grayson finally talk about what happened and figure out what it all means

WARNINGS: none!!

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @maybxlle @xoxo-vee @elysianwayy77 @ravishinglyliving - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

A/N: this took wayyyy longer than i meant it to, sorry about that. i hope you guys liked this series because it was so fun to write!! (i dont plan to continue it but who knows...)

When you woke up, you could feel the cool morning breeze making its way into your room. The birds were chirping outside, and the sun was just at the right level to where it would hit your eyes and make it hard for you to open them all the way. 

Your bed felt warmer for some reason this morning- the blanket heavier, the mattress firmer, the pillow softer. You weren’t complaining, no, it was actually a… nice change. A change from your normal routine, no matter how much you relied on it. Maybe it wasn’t really different and you were just still half asleep, or-

Wait.

You never slept with your window open. 

You shouldn’t have been able to feel the breeze. Or hear the birds. Or have that much sunlight peeking through. It wasn’t that things just felt different this morning, but this wasn’t your room.

When your eyes snapped open, they widened at the realization of who was beside you, the realization of whose arm was resting lazily across your stomach.

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne. 

Your breath caught when you saw him. Thankfully the man had put on a shirt, but he looked so unlike himself while he was asleep. 

Grayson’s usually perfectly styled hair was tousled, some light strands falling onto his forehead. His breathing was slow, steady, gentle, and you could see the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. His lips were slightly parted, making a barely audible hum with each exhale. He looked younger, more boyish in this moment of relaxation.

It was a different look on him, but not necessarily a bad one.

He stirred slightly, and you were completely frozen, only watching as he rolled over from his back to his stomach, closer to you. You had no idea what had possessed you to get into a bed with Grayson Hawthorne last night, but you were now suffering the consequences. 

You tried gently to push his arm away, but Grayson was surprisingly strong in his sleep and wouldn’t let go. In fact, it only seemed to wrap around you tighter.

He was killing you right now. 

The worst part was, your mind was blanking as to how you got there. You knew that neither of you had anything to drink, so it wasn’t that. You also would’ve been able to feel it if you were hungover. 

It was probably the mind fog from having just woken up, but you still didn’t like not remembering. 

Pushing his arm off you only proved to be futile yet again. Just as you were about to get desperate and resort to calling his name, Grayson awoke. 

Well, saying he was awake was an overstatement. Grayson let out a groan and his arm tightened around you further, like he didn’t realize it was you he was holding onto. He kicked his legs out, taking up a surprisingly large amount of the bed, almost tangled up with you.

“Hmm,” he muttered, slowly opening his eyes. “I… what the-” 

Grayson’s eyes widened like yours when he saw you next to him and saw where his hand was placed. He immediately retracted the arm and as awkward as you’d found it, part of you missed its warmth. 

He cleared his throat and spoke again. “Good morning. You’re awake.”

“Uh, yeah,” you confirmed. “Why am I-”

“In my bed?” Grayson interrupted. “After the pool last night, we came back up here and talked for a bit. You fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, so I figured I’d let you stay.”

Oh.

Phew.

“You should've just woken me up and I could’ve gone to my room, it’s not that big of a deal,” you told him.

“You’re a peaceful sleeper. I didn’t wish to get in the way of that.”

Did he really have you blushing this early in the morning?

“Oh, thank you,” was the only response you could manage.

Grayson sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. Everything about him looking younger and peaceful as he slept had gone away, and he was now back to his sharp eyes staring at you intensely. The eyes you could never read, the eyes that he always managed to hide so much behind.

You forced yourself to sit up too, and- oh my god you were wearing his shirt.

You hadn’t even known that Grayson owned anything besides the countless suits he always wore. And those sweatpants, apparently, from when he was drunk the other night. 

But here you were, wearing your shorts from the night before but your hoodie replaced by a soft white shirt that was far too big for you. You realized you were still wearing your swimsuit under it, but it had dried by now. 

A small noise came from his nose, just a little too loudly for it to be a normal exhale.

“What,” you groaned, sheepishly looking up to meet his eyes. “Do I really look that pathetic that I managed to make Grayson Hawthorne laugh at me?”

His corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “You don’t look pathetic. It’s just your face, you look…” he cut himself off and paused to find the right adjective. You could tell what he’d been about to say.

Please don’t say cute. For the love of all things sane, please don’t call me cute. 

“Amusing.”

Somehow, that was worse. 

You sighed and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The night before was starting to come back to you: 

After the kiss, the two of you had stayed out there and talked for a good while. You got out of the pool, put your regular clothes back on over your swimsuit. Then Grayson offered to go up to his room. You accepted the offer, and when you got up there he’d offered you one of his shirts because your hoodie had gotten wet. He then put on a shirt himself, and you simply sat on his bed and talked.

And apparently you’d fallen asleep in the same bed.

Grayson cleared his throat. “You’re thinking.”

“Yes I am.” You didn’t even bother being surprised that he could read you so easily because of course he could. 

“Is it selfish of me to guess that you’re thinking about last night?” 

“I don’t know about selfish, but it certainly wouldn’t be incorrect.” 

A beat of silence. 

You felt out of place there, sitting on the bed next to him, probably looking like a mess. But the way he looked at you during that silence proved that he wasn’t necessarily upset about your unbrushed hair or half-awake eyes or the way the sleeves of his shirt on you nearly went down to your forearms. 

“I meant everything I said,” he finally spoke. “I hope you know that.”

Oh, now he was willing to bring up the elephant in the room? Last time it had taken him a week. Though you supposed it was harder to avoid when you’d both woken up in his bed. 

“Even when you were drunk?” You asked.

His voice was surprisingly soft. “Even when I was drunk.”

Another silence. There seemed to be a lot of them that morning. And in that silence, you let the reality of what had happened settle in:

You kissed Grayson Hawthorne last night. 

Twice.

And all either of you had to say about it was some awkward banter. 

But you didn’t know what else to say. What was a kiss to someone like Grayson? Was it just a meaningless action to him? Could he just kiss someone and forget? Or was it the opposite, you’d kissed and now there was no moving on? You assumed- you hoped for the latter, and knowing him it was most likely, but you couldn’t be sure. 

He was Grayson Hawthorne, after all. Who knew how many girls wanted to kiss him. Not that he ever let them, but you wouldn’t think it strange of him to find a kiss to be worth nothing.

So you figured you just had to ask.

“What are we, Grayson?”

To your surprise, he smiled softly. 

“That depends,” he told you. “What would you like us to be?”

~~

Avery had sent you a voicemail at eleven the night before. She’d also texted you countless times ever since then, well into the morning.

By the time you left Grayson’s room, it was nine.

Your hoodie hadn’t dried overnight, so he’d let you keep his shirt. You’d tied it up to try to make it fit at least a little, but it was still far too large. And it smelled like him- that didn’t help.

You pressed play on Avery’s voicemail.

“Hello? Are you- oh, it’s a voicemail. Okay, uh, well, call me back when you can. You said you’d let me know what happens with you and Grayson. I mean since you haven’t come back yet I can assume it went well? I hope so, maybe since it’s late you guys-” She paused. “Nevermind, I don’t want to think about what you’re doing. Call me. Bye.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. What on earth did she think you were doing? But you couldn’t blame her, because you’d initially had the same thought when you woke up next to him that morning. 

Avery answered your call back almost immediately. 

“Hello?” Her voice said through the phone.

“Hey, I’m alive.”

There was a high noise from the other end, but you couldn’t quite make it out. 

“Finally! I thought you drowned in the pool or something. You wanna tell what happened? It’s been, like, twelve hours.”

Damn, she was right. You’d gone to the pool at eight last night, and it was now nine in the morning. You spent most of those hours alone with Grayson, your mind decided to remind you. You had to push the thought out of your head.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you,” you said. “In person, though. Where are you?”

“We’re in the back, by the pool. Thought it would be funny to wait for you here.”

You frowned. “Who is we-”

“Max,” she explained. There was another sound from beside her. “She says to get the fox over here, beach.”

~~

Talking to Max and Avery didn’t prove to be productive, but it had been fun. Long story short, Max thought the idea of drunk Grayson was hilarious and Avery fully thought you were joking when you told her you’d kissed.

That only offended you a little.

But the talk by the pool didn’t last too long. Eventually, you made your way back inside. You just wanted to be alone with your thoughts for longer. You still didn’t completely know how you felt about the whole situation, despite discussing it with your two closest friends. 

You realized it was almost ten o’clock and you still hadn’t had breakfast, so you went to the kitchen. As you got there, you couldn’t help but think back to when Grayson had come in, hungover yet looking completely put-together. When he’d reached into the refrigerator and grabbed cherries for some reason. 

You laughed quietly at the memory. 

“What’s so funny, hm?”

Your head snapped back and you were met once again with Grayson Hawthorne. And once again he was in a suit, his hair fixed, looking perfect. 

He had a talent for putting himself together.

“Nothing,” you replied. “I’m just thinking.”

Grayson walked over to you and nodded. “You do that a lot.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot to think about.”

“Care to share?”

Having a conversation with Grayson Davenport Hawthorne was always difficult. Not because of the way he spoke, no, but rather because of the way he looked. 

How were you supposed to focus with those silver-gray eyes looking down at you, with the way the corners wrinkled with each poorly hidden smile? How were you supposed to stand up straight when every time his fingers even brushed your skin you melted into his touch?

How were you supposed to exist when he did too?

Oh, right, he asked a question. 

“I’m thinking about what you said,” you told him honestly. There was no point in trying to hide your feelings from him now. 

“And remind me,” he said, moving even closer. “What did I say?”

“That you meant everything you said, even when you were drunk.”

He nodded along, but he was clearly focused more on you rather than what you were saying.

“You said you wanted my face.” You said slowly. “I know you were drunk and it was just a stupid comment, but-”

He stopped with a finger to your mouth. “We went over this the morning after, no?” Grayson’s hand moved from covering your mouth to cup your face again and it took everything you had not to lean further into it. “I would be honored to have your face.” 

Even if the words were stupid, the meaning behind them was so much stronger. 

When he leaned in to whisper in your ear you nearly fainted. 

“May I?”

You didn’t answer, but you let your arms wrap themselves around his hips as he leaned down to meet your lips with his and-

“Jeez you guys, get a room!” Grayson stood up straight at the new voice, but your hands stayed on each other. “This is like the third time this week I’ve walked in on you two kissing out in the open. Other people live here you kno-”

Xander, who had entered the kitchen and complained about your affection, completely froze when he saw you.

“You’re not Avery.” He then pointed to his brother. “You’re not Jameson.”

Grayson cleared his throat. “Xander-”

Xander gasped. “Wait, are you two, like, a thing? Like, dating? Like, kissy kissy cuddle cuddle muah muah?” 

“Xander-”

“Oh my… I knew it! I mean, I didn’t want to make any assumptions, but the two of you have been acting pretty weird for a bit now and I thought-”

“Xander-”

“-hold on. Nash owes me so much money now.”

“Xander-”

“What Gray? Of course we have a bet going. I guess my optimism is finally paying off! I was right, you are getting together! This is the best news of my life-”

“Alexander.”

Xander finally stopped rambling and looked at his brother. Grayson was absolutely glaring at him, the kind of look that spoke volumes. And coming from him, it was even louder.

“Damn,” Xander said, shaking his head. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were such a party pooper. Actually, who am I kidding, I’ve known that forever.” He shrugged. “Just… keep kissing or whatever. Good job. Er, uh, I mean-”

“Just go away, Xander.”

“Yes sir. I’m gone.”

Once the footsteps were too far to be heard, Grayson let out a sigh of relief. 

You burst out laughing. Grayson only stared at you with a blank expression, like he was waiting for you to stop, which only made you laugh harder. 

When you’d finally caught your breath, he let his hand find your face again, this time tangling itself in your hair. “My brother seems to think we’re dating.”

You didn’t try to hide the blush that covered your entire face. “And how do you feel about that, Grayson?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be upset if his assumption turned out to be true.”

Silence somehow fell upon the two of you again, but this time it was different. Not unsure, not nervous, not awkward. This time, it was a comfortable silence. A silence in which you looked into his eyes. A silence in which you could finally read one of the emotions hiding behind them: 

Love.

“Grayson?”

“Yes?”

“I think I figured out what I want us to be.”

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